


When You’re Strange

by Nevermore_red



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Biker!Sandor, Continuation of #98 of Fur and Feathers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Joffrey is an ass, Mistaken Identity...sort of, Modern AU, Not Against Sansa, POV Alternating, Sex by Stages, Slow Burn, Tattoos, Texting, Very Brief Mention Of Violence, as per usual, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 11:16:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 35,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13879722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermore_red/pseuds/Nevermore_red
Summary: Sansa meets her perfect man on a dating app. Joffrey is handsome and wealthy. After months of texting and talking over the phone, Sansa makes the trip south to finally meet the man she's been falling for.Sandor hated Joffrey, but his mom pays well. He's a good body guard and does what he's told without question, even if it is taking over talking to Joffrey's latest mark because the boy's too lazy to put in the work himself. Only...Sandor isn't pretending once he starts talking to the girl. Somewhere along the way he wasn't doing it for Joff anymore, but himself.





	1. Chapter 1

[Picset](https://nevermorered.tumblr.com/post/171558926936/httparchiveofourownorgworks13879722-first)

In all honesty, Sandor wasn't exactly sure how it had gotten this far. In the beginning, it was just to appease Joffrey. The little jackass had met the girl on a dating site but once they'd exchanged phone numbers, he got bored. Still, he wanted to work with the girl. See if he could flatter her enough so she'd send him nude pics. Which is why he used a burner phone when he talked to girls like that. Just in case Cersei checked his phone she would continue thinking he wasn't an outright pig. The thing was, he hadn't actually wanted to put in any work at all. No. He delegated that task to Sandor.

"Sweeten her up for me, dog." he'd said when he tossed Sandor the phone. "Let's see if the carpet matches the drapes, if you know what I mean."

Of course Sandor knew what he meant. He wasn't fucking stupid, although that was a stupid thing to say. It wasn't like he was some slick motherfucker, either. He didn't know how to 'sweeten her up' at all. It's why he stuck with one night stands fueled by bad choices. No sweetening needed. Joffrey was an annoying kid, though, so Sandor took the phone as told just to shut him up. He scrolled back through their few exchanges to find out the girl in question was quite literally the single most gorgeous thing Sandor had ever seen. No wonder Joff wasn't so quick to let this one go. It only took one evening of trading texts that Sandor decided he wasn't going to play Joffrey over the phone. Any questions the girl, Sansa was her name, asked him he'd answer with his own truth instead of answering with Joffrey's. It was a subtle FU to his boss, which made him feel better anyway.

Only...over a month of texting and calling each other, Sandor found himself forgetting that it was all for Joffrey's benefit. Sansa was sweet and kind, but there was also something almost broken about her. Something sad. She never said as much, but it was in the softness of her speech and in the hollow look in her eyes in some of the pictures she sent him. He figured, what the hell? If this thing between them was making her at least a little bit happy, he wasn't going to take it from her by telling her the truth. But he also made every effort to never lie to her. He gave her himself, in all his harsh and crude and blunt reality, fully expecting her to end their talks, but she never did. She wrapped him up in a little bubble of fantasy that they were only for each other. That fantasy was only broken when she'd call him Joff, though it was fairly easy to ignore. After the first few weeks, Joffrey actually seemed to forget about her and stopped asking if there had been any 'titty pics' yet. There never was, anyway. Sandor never asked for them, and Sansa didn't really seem the type to send them anyway. She was reserved and from the few pictures she sent him, she was always modestly dressed as well. A proper little lady.

That little bubble of fantasy was burst when, after a little over a month, Joffrey seemed to recall what he'd tasked Sandor with.

"How're things going with me and the Stark bitch?" he asked one evening just before there was a planned pool party out back. The kid would likely get ripped out of his mind and Sandor was going to be busy keeping his ass out of trouble. Biting his tongue against arguing that she wasn't a bitch, Sandor shrugged.

"She still seems interested." He thought back to just the night before, at her endearingly sweet giggles at some crude joke he'd told her. How she'd been so giddy when he told her he'd adopted a dog from the local pound. He'd even let her name him, because Sandor really didn't give a shit what his name was. After turning down both Max and Florian, she'd suggested Stranger because of the big mutts black coat and mean demeanor.

"Any nudes yet?" Joffrey asked.

"No." Sandor answered simply, keeping his voice detached and bored.

"Prude bitch." he sighed. "I've never seen a ginger cunt, though. I bet she has one, and I want to see it."

Since Joff was bent over pulling his sandals on, Sandor rolled his eyes. There was just no way in any of the hells that sweet little Sansa would ever fall for this slimy bastards moves. He'd never see her cunt, that was one thing Sandor was certain of.

"Hard thing to do when she wont take nudes and lives as far away as she does." Sandor supplied, hoping to end this line of conversation soon. Worried Joffrey would tell him to end things with her. Not that he would. It just made things simpler, made him feel less sneaky, with Joffrey still wanting him to do it. Joffrey stood up quickly, a terrifyingly gleeful expression on his face that made Sandor consider the fact that his words hadn't been wise.

"That's, it dog!" he slapped Sandor's shoulder like they were good ol' buddies. "A brilliant idea. I'll have her come here. Set her up at the Red Keep Resort, take an evening to woo her in person, and then spend the rest of the week checking out that ginger bush. As pale as she is, I can just imagine how bright a well placed slap on her ass would look!"

Years of service made it possible for Sandor to keep a blank expression, though on the inside he cringed at the description. Nothing wrong with a little consensual rough play, but Sandor knew well enough that Joffrey rarely cared about consent.

"Tell her to come." he smiled at Sandor, rubbing his hands together like some cartoon villain. "Set it all up and I'll pay for her flight and the room. Mother wouldn't like to think she didn't raise a gentleman, after all. Appearances are important."

Sandor nodded, then followed a newly excited Joffrey out to the back yard where a huge crowd of people had gathered already. Nothing drew in these cunts like the promise of booze, drugs, and debauchery. There wasn't a whole lot of time that night to really think about what would happen. Too many things to worry about with the party and Joffrey's smart mouth.

It wasn't until the next day, when he had the morning and afternoon off, that he really considered what it all would mean. Sansa would say yes. That much he knew. She'd hinted about wanting to meet in person before. Things between them were good, they clicked well. He hadn't lied when he told Joffrey she was interested. Sandor might not have been skilled in the area of women, but he knew that the girl was interested. She didn't play coy or hard to get. She felt what she felt and let him know it. But that was when she thought he was a young pretty blonde boy. It was hard to imagine that someone like her would look at Sandor and see someone worth being interested in. Even aside from the scars that disfigured his face, he wasn't anywhere close to the type of guy Joffrey was. He was big and covered in tattoos, and even Cersei preferred that he didn't accompany Joffrey into the offices because he was too scary looking. His general size and choice of attire meant that most people avoided him at all costs. A girl like Sansa would just as soon cross the street so as not to pass him on the sidewalk as she was to even look at him directly.

How would things go when she came down South and realized that Joffrey was definitely not the man she thought he was? Joffrey could play at being a gentleman rather well. Sandor wasn't so sure he could just stand by and watch him play her knowing that in the end Joffrey would just as soon pass her off to his deplorable body guard than get to know her. Which was all good and well. Sandor wouldn't pretend he was some sort of saint when it came to things like that. It was just the sheer amount of bullshit and lies that went into it that bothered him. He got fucking for the sheer pleasure of fucking without wanting to form an attachment. He just was unsettled by the idea of putting in so much falsehood and deception beforehand.

Even if Sansa did give him a second glance, even if she did know the entire truth, she was hardly likely to want to continue on with him how they had been. She would likely hate him, and with every right.

Downing a couple beers, not even caring that it was before noon, Sandor went out onto the tiny little balcony of his apartment above the Braavosi bakery. Pulling out a cigarette and his phone, he lit up before tapping Sansa's name.

"Morning Joff." she answered sweetly, like she did every time. She sounded more tired than usual. Since it was a Sunday he wondered if maybe she'd stayed up too late last night and he'd woken her up.

"Morning." he took a long drag. "I wake you up?"

"No." she assured him gently. "My baby brother just woke me up early this morning is all. I'm still a little sleepy."

For a second, Sandor forgot what he had to ask her. "You still live at home?" He knew she was twenty four, so had just assumed that she lived on her own. Not that she'd ever specifically said as much.

"Um, no." she said hesitantly. "I just kept him last night. We baked cookies and he crashed after a sugar rush."

It sounded like there was more to it than that, but Sandor wasn't going to pry. He understood the dark secrets people kept to themselves. He didn't plan on telling her his so he wouldn't expect her to do it either.

"I have a question." he said, drawing hard on his cigarette and rubbing at his temple.

"Oh, yeah?" she asked with a light giggle. "What's that?"

"You ever been to Kings Landing?" he asked, working himself up to asking her outright.

"No." she said slowly. "I've only ever been as far as Riverrun. Why do you ask?"

"It's a shit city." he went on. "No getting around that. But there is some decent stretches of beach down by the bay. And if you know where to look there's some good places to get some grub."

"And you would know where to look?" she asked in a teasing tone.

"I would." he nodded even though she couldn't see. "You could come down here. Check it out for yourself."

"Are you saying you want to meet in person?" she asked with barely restrained joy and for a brief second Sandor grinned before he realized it wasn't really him that she was excited to see. It was Joffrey's pretty golden hair and perfect face and green eyes.

"You think we were just going to talk on the phone forever?" he asked instead of answering.

"I don't know." she giggled. "But I would love to. When were you thinking?"

"When could you make it?" Sansa gave him a date the next month and Sandor agreed it would work. Not that he knew for sure, but Joffrey could damn well accommodate it.

"I'm so excited!" she said happily. "Oh! But I'll need to book a flight, and find a hotel for the week. Is there any you would recommend?"

"You don't have to pay for the flight or the hotel." he assured her. "They're both taken care of."

"Are you sure?" she asked with a worried tone. "You don't have to do that. I can pay for it myself. It's really no hardship."

"Like I said, they're both taken care of. I'll get you the exact flight times when I know them for sure."

"Thank you so much. That's so kind of you." she squealed a little in joy and Sandor let himself be happy for her joy. "Oh, I'm so excited to finally meet you, Joff!"

Sandor scowled, anger washing through him at the reminder of who she was really happy about. That her joy and little to do with the man he actually was.

"Right." he sighed. "Look, I gotta go. I'll get you all the details soon."

"Alright." she paused. "Are you okay? You sound upset or something."

"I just have to go." he snapped, then tempered his anger. "I'll call you soon, okay Little Bird?"

"Okay." she agreed happily, appeased at his calmer tone and the endearment.

When they got off the phone, Sandor went back inside and fought against the urge to throw the phone as hard as he could at the wall, or maybe punch something. Instead, he did the breathing and counting techniques E.B. had taught him and calmed down. No use in getting mad. There were things in this world just not meant for the likes of him.

Things not meant for him, but were dangled just out of his reach. Like a coveted toy knight to a young boy. Or all the riches and respect that came with simply bearing the right last name. Like a pretty girl who caught his bosses eye.


	2. Chapter 2

The dating site wasn't Sansa's first choice of a way to meet someone. She'd always imagined a movie or novel worthy meet cute. Perhaps in a coffee bar or walking their dogs. But life had conspired against her. After her parents death, she no longer had the free time to go to coffee bars for any longer than just to run in and run straight back out. With Lady now gone as well, there was no dog to walk either. 

Still, Sansa wanted love. 

With the insanity of life now, a dating site was the simplest and easiest way to find someone. With all her free time taken up by making sure Bran and Rickon were getting their homework done and the house was clean and there were groceries on the table, there was really no other way she could see. 

As shallow as it seemed, it was Joffrey's handsome face and gorgeous golden hair and beautiful green eyes that drew her to him. His bio was rather short, but it told her enough that she knew he was only a year older than her, a wealthy business man, and that he lived in Kings Landing. Sansa had always wanted to go to Kings Landing. Their first interactions on the dating app were a little odd, but that seemed normal to Sansa. They were strangers after all, but once Joffrey gave her his number and they began talking and texting, they just sort of clicked. He was a little uncouth, his humor dark, and was very much on the blunt side. Most surprisingly to her, though, was his voice. The roughness, the deep rasp of it didn't seem to fit the golden boy in his photos. But, then again, some of Sansa's favorite singers voices didn't match their appearance. Not to mention his voice was quite possibly her favorite part of him. 

It surprised her how she'd come to cherish their time talking to each other, but she had. When he finally invited her to come down, Sansa had never been more excited about something before. 

"Just one more week, can you believe it!" she sighed happily into the phone one night, rolling over so she was laying on her back and looking at the ceiling. 

"I can." he answered with a sigh of his own, although it didn't sound quite so happy to her. Actually, he hadn't seemed all that excited about her upcoming visit when they talked about it. He never brought it up himself after emailing her all the flight info and her ticket and seemed reluctant to talk about it when she did bring it up. 

"If there's something that's come up or...or anything, we can reschedule." she offered. "I wouldn't want to impose or be in the way." 

"No, don't worry about it, little bird." he brushed her off and Sansa couldn't help but smile at the endearment. It always got her when he called her that. Which really, it started out as a sort of insult. When they'd first started talking, Joffrey had jokingly asked her what she was wearing. In a way to tease him back, when she knew he was aiming for something sexy, she told him what she was actually wearing. Which was a blouse with a bird print on it and a red skirt. She'd explained to him that her sister in law, Jeyne, had bought it for her because it reminded her of Sansa. When Joffrey asked if it was because she looked like a bird, Sansa had laughed and told him no, it was because it was a vintage blouse, which was Sansa's favorite style. He hadn't stopped teasing her about looking like a bird since then. 

"Well, I'm looking forward to it." she told him. "I can't wait to see you in person." 

"I'm sure you could wait." he mumbled, but before Sansa could comment, he went on. "Stranger is starting to growl at me. I gotta take him out. Talk soon?" 

"Of course." she smiled. "Give him a pat on the head from me." 

He snorted at that. "Night, Sansa." 

After telling him good night, Sansa got off the phone. The next morning she went shopping to buy a few new outfits to take with her to Kings Landing. When she got home, she began packing her bag. Brienne had let her borrow a duffle of hers that fit perfectly as a carry on, but was roomy as well. That way Sansa wouldn't have to pay extra to check luggage. Deciding it was best to wait to buy her toiletries when she got there to save room, she carefully folded all of her clothes and placed them into the bag on top of her white Keds. Stuffing in her underwear and socks, she was debating on which bathing suit to pack when Arya knocked on the open frame of her bedroom door.

"Packing already?" she asked with a cocked head.

"Yes." Sansa decided on the white full piece with the lemon print. "I want to make sure I have everything."

"You stick some condoms in?" Arya asked casually and Sansa jerked her head up to shoot her sister a glare.

"No!" she said a little too loudly. "Of course not. That's...well," Sansa fumbled for words for a moment. "That would be rather presumptuous. Besides, you know how I feel about that."   

"It's not presumptuous, it's safe. And, yeah, I know. But I also know that you're head over for this dude. Even if he looks like a complete douche." 

"Don't call him that." Sansa scolded gently. "You don't know him. He's different than most guys." 

"I didn't say he  _was_ a douche, I said he looked like a douche. And he does. Guys that pretty are always slimy jerks." 

"That's simply not true." Sansa argued. "Robb is a very attractive man and he isn't slimy or a jerk. Neither is Jon." 

"What about Theon?" Arya asked with a grin and Sansa giggled. 

"Touché." she went back to smoothing her things down in the bag. "He is sort of a slimy jerk to the girls he dates. Or doesn't date. But Joff isn't like that. Sure, he's a bit gruff and his humor falls more in line with your dark wit, but he's just...I don't know." she smiled to herself for a moment, thinking of all the things that she thought about Joff.

"And this is what I'm talking about." Arya interrupted her daydream. "You're smitten. Which means that things might happen during your week with him. It's better to be prepared."

Sansa bit her lip and thought of all their late night conversations, how sometimes they got suggestive and heated and how simply his voice could make her tummy flutter. Perhaps Arya was right.

"You don't think that would make me look, I don't know, like a loose woman?" she glanced over to see Arya roll her eyes.

"No. It makes you look like a smart woman who takes her own safety in her hands and doesn't rely on the guy to protect her when it comes to that."

Picking at the zipper of her bag, Sansa shrugged. "I guess you're right. But, I don't have any. And I couldn't imagine going to buy any. What if old Nan is working at the store? I would just die if she saw me buying something like that." Just the mere thought of the little old lady from next door that worked as the store greeter catching her made Sansa's cheeks heat. But before she could get too mortified by the idea, something hit her shoulder and bounced on the bed next to her bag.

"Hey!" she rubbed her shoulder, glaring at a smirking Arya. Then she looked down to see what her sister had thrown at her. The black box with it's gold writing almost made Sansa shriek. "Arya!" she hissed, grabbing the box and shoving it under her pillow. "What if Bran or Rickon were to come in and see that?"

"Then they'd know their sister took safe sex seriously." she smirked before giving her a wave and sauntering off.

After a moments consideration, and a quick glance back at the door, Sansa snatched the condom box from under her pillow and shoved it to the bottom of her duffle.

There. She was a modern woman, taking her own safety into her own hands.

After zipping the bag back up, she couldn't help but erupt into nervous giggles. Just the thought of using those with Joffrey made her anxious, but not in the bad sort of way. Anxious in the sort of way that set her skin to tingling and her tummy to fill with butterflies.

With her bag all packed and everything taken care of, all she had left to do was wait another six days. And then she would be heading off to Kings Landing and to the man she'd come to be smitten with. The possibilities were endless, and Sansa couldn't wait! 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s mention of abuse in this chapter (not of Sansa). It’s nothing graphic or detailed but I still wanted to give readers a heads up.

It was rare for Sandor to have an evening off. Since he wasn't wanted in the offices, he was of no use during the daytime when Joffrey was forced to at least look like he was working. So Sandor took over in the evenings and worked weekends. They were shit hours, to be sure, but the Lannister's paid well and it wasn't like he had a huge social life that he was missing out on. 

Still, he enjoyed the rare evenings off. Like today. Joffrey was doing something with his uncle Tyrion and Sandor wasn't needed. He took full advantage of that. Took Stranger out for a long run. Changed the front tire on his bike like he'd been needing to, and then took it out for a ride before it got dark. He didn't really have any destination in mind, but he liked riding. The freedom it gave him was a release and after working with E.B. Sandor took greater joy in things that made him happy. 

With the rumble of the steel horse under him, the wind against his face, and the road stretched out before him, Sandor was free to let his mind relax. Taking the road outside of the city, he went up a winding road to a hilltop that overlooked the city. Deciding to stop for a second, Sandor shut the engine off and leaned forward onto his handlebars. Even he could admit that the sight before him was nice. From a distance the city actually looked welcoming and even pretty. No one would be able to see the seedy underbelly from here. He even had a brief thought of bringing Sansa here when she showed up in three days before remembering he'd likely not be spending any time at all with her. 

He didn't see another way. If he were around her, she'd know within seconds that he was the man she'd been talking to. If she had any sort of brains in her head she would know once Joffrey started talking that he wasn't the same person, but Joffrey was a sneaky little fucker and could probably come up with a convincing reason. He'd come to the decision to just stay away entirely that week. Let it play out the way it would and stay in the background. He could keep her safe that way, but still keep who he was exactly a secret. He didn't think he could handle her hatred if she figured it out. 

The buzzing of his phone brought him out of his thoughts and he shifted in the seat to pull it out of his back pocket. Since it was his personal phone, he knew it wasn't Sansa but the fact that Meryn Trant's name was on his screen pissed him off. 

"What?" he snapped into the phone.

"Get to the house now." Trant said, and there was something almost panicked in his voice that set Sandor to alert.

"It's my evening off." Sandor reminded him. "Take care of it yourself." 

At that Trant chuckled darkly and in the background, Sandor was almost certain he heard a woman crying. 

"Get here now, dog." with that, he hung up and Sandor was left wondering what the fuck that had been about. He thought briefly about just ignoring it and going about his evening, but the tone of Meryn's voice made Sandor uneasy. Not to mention that crying. 

For one horrible second that caused his stomach to roll almost painfully, Sandor considered that it might be Sansa. That she'd shown up early to surprise him, or Joffrey, and that something bad was happening to her at the hands of that bastard. But, no. Sansa wouldn't know where Joffrey lived and the only phone number she had was his. Hells, Joffrey had even forgotten about the week he'd planned with her and Sandor was waiting to remind him. 

Slightly calmer, Sandor shoved his phone back in his pocket and started his bike. There was the possibility that it was Myrcella crying. Joffrey was often cruel to his sister and if that were the case, Sandor wanted to hurry up and get there to intervene. He knew the lifelong pain that could come with the torture of an elder sibling. Myrcella was a sweet girl. She didn't deserve a brother like Joff. 

When he finally reached the house and pulled his bike around back to the parking garages, he noted that Cersei's car was gone. That meant that Myrcella would be gone as well since Cersei never allowed the younger kids to stay with their brother alone. Even she acknowledge her sons cruelty that much. Parking the bike and removing his helmet, Sandor made his way through the back door. Even from the opposite side of the house, he could hear the commotion going on in the living room and sped up his steps to see what the hell was going on. 

In the living room he found Joffrey and his uncle Tyrion in a stand off, the little Lannister red in the face and all but roaring at a petulant looking Joffrey. A few guards were standing about, all looking tense, and Meryn Trant was standing near the entry way to the hall. 

"Do you even realize the damage you may have done?" Tyrion was fuming. "Not just to that girl, but to the family?" he hissed the last part and Joffrey rolled his eyes. 

"Just pay her off. And the next time you might reconsider the gifts you send me." he smirked and Tyrion grabbed the sides of his own head. 

"Listen. To. Me." he said slowly. "You've gone too far. Your actions have consequences and this time you just might learn them the hard way." 

Tired on not knowing what was going on, Sandor stepped further into the living room. "What the hell is going on?" he asked loudly, pulling the attention of everyone to himself. Joffrey almost looked relieved to see him, and then that smarmy smirk spread across his face like Sandor was here to save the day for him. 

"Clegane." Tyrion sighed his name. "I'm glad you're here." 

"Mind telling me why I'm here?" he asked. 

"Showing you would be easier." he motioned for Sandor to follow him down the hall and Sandor did, shoving Trant out of the way as they headed towards Joffrey's bedroom. When he saw that Blount was stationed outside the door, a foreboding sense of dread filled his stomach. Once they were inside the bedroom, Sandor took in the scene.

The bedroom was in disorder. A chair knocked over and the mattress half off the bedframe, all the bedding strewn across the room. On the edge of the bed sat a young girl wrapped in what looked like Joffrey's robe. A torn dress was at her feet. Tyrion's girlfriend was squatted down before her, a bowl of water on the ground next to her and a rag in her hand as she dabbed at the girls split bottom lip. Her eye was also swollen. And there seemed to be bruises on her neck that looked like someone's hands. It didn't take a genius to figure out who's hands.

"How is she?" Tyrion asked gently and his girlfriend, Shae if Sandor remembered right, turned to glare at him and then at Sandor.

"Beaten." she said, clipped. "And scared. Why is he here? To scare her even more?"

"No." Tyrion shook his head, glancing back at Sandor. "I think he might be able to help us."

"How in the bloody hell am I supposed to help?" Sandor snapped and Tyrion took a deep breath before guiding Sandor to the far corner of the room.

"The girl is a prostitute. I sent her here for Joffrey. I thought it might help him to bang out some aggression."

"Oh, he banged it out alright." Sandor mocked.

"Yes, well, not how I intended. Now, the girl can't go to a normal hospital. I know of a doctor that will see her and not ask questions. I'll pay for it, of course."

"You mean she can't go to a hospital because Joffrey might actually have to pay for his crimes?" Sandor seethed, suddenly angry. "And with that he'll bring down the family, yeah? All about keeping up appearances with you fuckers."

"No." Tyrion said harshly. "No. The girl is an illegal prostitute. She would get in trouble. This doctor is a very good doctor and he'll take care of her properly. I'll give her enough money to cover his costs and to make up for her....time here. And I'll pay you as well."

"Fuck your money, Lannister." Sandor growled, storming around him and stomping over to where the girl was. "Come on." he grabbed her arm as gently as he could and still get her moving. Pulling her in his wake, nearly knocking over Shae in the process, he moved them swiftly out into the living room.

"Dog!" Joffrey beamed, all happy to see him again. "I knew you would make things alright."

"Fuck you, boy." he snapped. "Fuck the entire twisted lot of you." he turned around on Tyrion, who was following behind them. "Give me the money for her doctor."

With a fumbling hand, Tyrion pulled out his wallet and started thumbing through the notes inside.

"For fucks sake." Sandor snatched the wallet from him and pulled out every single note he had before throwing the wallet at his feet. Grabbing the girls arm again, he left the Lannister house behind, along with his job.

 

After dropping the girl off at Dr. Qyburn's with enough money to cover her bill along with keeping her off the streets for a handful of months and a number to a shelter E.B. had told him about once, Sandor headed home. It was dark by the time he got there and after dropping his keys in the bowl by his door, he leaned against it and processed what just happened.

He just told his boss to fuck off. He'd lost his job. Now he was unemployed with no job prospects at all. It wasn't like the Lannister's would give him a good recommendation for a new body guard job. Still, he couldn't help but feel a thousand times lighter than he ever had before. Like some unwanted burden was finally lifted off of his shoulders.

He'd be fine. There was enough money in his savings to keep him afloat for quite some time while he figured something out.

With a grin, he headed into the kitchen and pulled out the left over steak from the night before. Tossing it in Stranger's bowl before giving the dog a good rub between the ears, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and dropped onto the sofa. Popping the top, he took a long draw off of it. When he sat forward to sit it on the coffee table, the phone in the  breast pocket of his vest started ringing.

Sansa. Shit, he'd completely forgot about what this would mean for them in the chaos of everything. She would be here in two days, expecting Joffrey at the airport. Only, Joffrey had forgotten about her. He didn't have her flight information and didn't know what time she'd be getting in. He would have no idea where at in the Red Keep Resort was staying.

Sandor should just tell her the entire truth of it all right now. Get it all out on the table.

Call him a coward, but he wasn't going to do it. He consoled himself with saying that he didn't want to cause her pain before he absolutely had to. Besides, everything was paid for. The least the girl deserved for being played by that bastard was a paid vacation.

Taking a breath, Sandor answered the phone and brought it to his ear.

"Hey, little bird."  


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so horrible for making you all wait so long for this chapter. As I've mentioned, I'm a high school fastpitch softball coach and the season is in gear and....excuses, excuses. I have stepped down this year as head coach and will just be the pitching instructor, so I'll have more free time. Or...I will once I get myself in gear lol. 
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the long time between posting. I'll try and do better. Thank you all for being patient with me!!

The plane ride from Winterfell to Kings Landing was fairly uneventful. Sansa spent the time alternating between wanting to bounce in her seat from excitement and contemplating just jumping on a return flight as soon as she landed. She was just so nervous about meeting Joffrey and he'd just seemed more distant the last few times they spoke. 

Actually, they hadn't actually  _talked_ to each other for a few days. Just through texts. Sansa tried not to put too much thought into it. Perhaps Joffrey was just busy, or maybe he was just as nervous as she was and this was his way of dealing with that. 

When her flight landed, Sansa quickly made her way to the bathroom. After relieving herself, she washed her hands, touched up her makeup and gave her hair a fluff. Smoothing her hands down her yellow pleated midi skirt, she made certain her white blouse was tucked in just right. With one last glance in the mirror, she adjusted the Peter Pan collar of her shirt and took a deep, steadying breath. With nothing left to fiddle with, Sansa picked up her bag and made her way out to the lobby, valiantly ignoring the storm of butterflies in her belly.

There wasn't that many people in the lobby, and it didn't take her long to realize Joffrey was not amongst those that were there. For a brief second Sansa was absolutely mortified thinking that it had all been some big old prank and that she was just going to stand here and no one would ever be there to pick her up.

"Don't be silly." she scolded herself, digging out her cellphone from the pocket of her bag. Scrolling through their texts, Sansa smiled at the last one she'd received from him just yesterday.

_Can you give me the number of a good taxi company to call once I land?_

_I'll pick you up at the airport._

_Oh! That's so kind of you. Thank you so much!!_

_Not a problem Little Bird._

Typing out a new message, Sansa quickly sent it off.

_My flight just landed. Where are you??_

_Outside in the pick up line. Parkings for shit. Last one in the row._

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sansa kept her phone in her hand and made her way outside. The pickup line was full and she took a brief second to tilt her head up and let the warm sun bathe her face since it felt so good. But Joffrey was waiting for her, and Sansa was done waiting herself. Pulling her shoulders back, she turned and slowly made her way down the sidewalk to the end of the line. Only there in the very back of the line wasn't the car she'd been expecting. It wasn't a car at all, actually. It was a big black motorcycle. The man sitting on it was far and away from the handsome blonde she was looking for. He was huge, sitting sideways on the bike, one long leg stretched out and a booted foot resting on the curb. His other leg was bent and resting on the side of his bike. Worn black jeans encased his legs and did little to hide the fact that his thighs were the size of a tree trunk. His shoulders were broad, and his arms were thick and covered in tattoos. The dark green shirt he wore stretched tightly around his biceps. Over the shirt was a black denim vest with patches on it. Sansa couldn't make most of them out, but there was one that said _zero fucks given._ That seemed appropriate for him. Even with dark sunglasses on and a beanie covering his head, Sansa could just feel the fuck off vibe he was giving. To top it off, one half of his face was warped and disfigured by a twisting mass of what looked to be burn scars. As she watched, he lifted one big mitt of a hand and drew off the cigarette he was holding.

Realizing she was staring, Sansa jerked her head away from the man. He was quite possibly the most terrifying person she'd ever seen before, yet she couldn't help how her eyes kept drifting back towards him. She couldn't be sure with his sunglasses, but she thought he was watching her as well. That made her stomach jittery, and it wasn't completely unpleasant. But she wasn't here for him. She was here to find Joffrey. Handsome Joffrey, not this massive man and his rock hard body and gorg... _no!_ Flushing deeply, Sansa scanned the cars in front of the bike, but her golden haired prince was nowhere to be seen. Conscious of the big biker tossing his cigarette to the ground before standing and crushing it with his boot, Sansa pulled her phone up and was getting ready to call Joffrey when she realized the big man was approaching her.

"Sansa Stark?" he asked and the deep rasp of his voice sent a shiver of awareness down her spine and Sansa had to physically shake her head.

No. There was just no way.

"Yes?" she said slowly, looking up at his face where he'd stopped a few feet way. "Do I...do I know you?" 

He smirked at that, raising a hand to pull his glasses off. His eyes were grey, somewhat similar to her fathers. Brighter, though. More intense. Almost wild. 

"You really don't recognize my voice, Little Bird?" he questioned and Sansa gasped. 

"No." she shook her head. "No, I've been talking to Joffrey. You...you are not Joffrey." 

His face twisted in something like a grimace, but he nodded. "Damn right I'm not. Look, girl, that was never Joff you were talking to. It was me."

For a long moment, Sansa just stood there, absorbing the shock of what this man was telling her. Her eyes stung, but she blinked the tears away. "You catfished me?" 

Perhaps it was stupid of her, but she had never even once considered the idea. The dating site was a reputable one and there were several security measures to make sure things like this didn't happen. But, it wasn't fool proof. Some slipped through the cracks. 

"Catfished?" he asked, bringing her out of her mild panic. "I don't know what that is." 

"It's when someone," here she pointed an accusing finger at him. "uses another persons photos to trick people online into thinking that's who they are. They take on a different persona and lie for whatever reason. It's what you did to me!" 

The man took a deep breath, bringing a hand up to rub his thumb along the side of his nose while his eyes squeezed shut. "You've got it wrong. I didn't use Joff's photo. It was him that started the dating profile. He was the one you were talking to on the app. He just got bored of it after giving you his number, but he's a chickenshit so he didn't tell you. Gave me the phone and told me to keep you on the hook since you were hot and something about carpets and drapes." 

"Why?" she demanded. "Why would he give you his phone? Why would you agree to pretend to be him? That's just mean and cruel." 

"I was his body guard. The phone was a burner so his mom wouldn't see his...exchanges. He gave it to me and since he was my boss, I did it." he stepped a little closer, leaning down so he was closer to her face. "But I never pretended to be him, believe that. I may not have told you my real name, but everything I said was my truth. Not his."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered, feeling unbearably hurt and confused. "And why am I here now? Where is Joffrey?" 

"Joff left this morning on a flight to High Garden to meet his girlfriends family." 

"What?" Sansa nearly screeched. "He had a girlfriend?" 

"Not that I knew of." he shrugged. "I think he forgot about you after you never sent any nudes. Got bored of it and obviously moved on to easier targets." 

"That's what you were for?" she glared at him. "To get nudes out of me for him without him having to put in any work?" 

"Never asked for any, did I?" he pointed out. 

"No." she conceded. "But if I had sent them, I would have been sending something personal and intimate to a complete stranger." 

"I'm not a stranger." he sounded frustrated and scratched at the side of his head. "Everything I said was me, like I said." 

"Fine." she sighed. "You would have just gotten your kicks out of it before giving it off to your boss. That's sick." 

"Look, I didn't ask for any, and it never happened so don't put that shit on me. Besides, I wouldn't have given anything to that little shit. He never knew anything that we talked about. He thought I was being the good employee and doing what I was told." 

"What a good employee you are." Sansa sneered.

"Was." he corrected. "I don't work for him anymore." 

"Good for you." she tossed out without thinking. "So why am I here? If you don't work for him anymore and he'd forgotten about me anyway, why didn't you just tell me? Why let me come all the way down here to tell me the truth?" 

"Joffrey paid for everything. The flight, the resort, everything. A free vacation is the least he can give you for putting you through that shit. And I thought you deserved to be told the truth to your face. To see who it was you've been talking to." he shrugged, pulling his sunglasses back on like he didn't want her to see his face clearly anymore. 

Sansa turned away from him, her mind racing. She was still so confused, and still hurt. And now she didn't feel hurt just by Joffrey, but by this man as well. 

But...she was in Kings Landing. Somewhere she'd always wanted to go. She had an entire week paid for at the most popular resort here. Like this guy said, it was the least she deserved for being played like she had. 

"Fine." she turned back to him. "You're right. It's a free vacation. I'll just call a cab and head to the resort." she unlocked her phone, fixing to look up a taxi number. 

"Fuck a taxi." he waved her off. "I'll drive you." 

"On that?" she looked wide eyed at the bike. "Uh, no thank you." 

"Come on, Little Bird." he cajoled. "There's no need to pay for a taxi. Not when I have to follow you there anyway. All the shits in my name and I have all the confirmation numbers. Just let me give you a ride." 

Sansa hesitated, a lump thick in her throat. He sounded sincerely guilty, although he hadn't said as much. It was almost as if he were asking for a way to make it up to her. It might not be the smartest thing in the world, accepting a ride from a stranger, but for whatever reason, she felt like she could trust him. 

"Alright." she conceded and thought she saw his lips twitch into a small smile, but then he was turning around and she was following him to his bike. She hesitated beside it while he undid an extra helmet from the back seat and handed it to her. 

"What about my bag?" she asked, lifting her duffle. The man eyed it for a moment. 

"It's small enough. Just put it between us." 

"What?" she asked, a bolt of fear rushing through her. "Then what will I hold on to?" 

He outright smiled at that with a chuckle. "Alright, alright. I'll strap it to the back." 

Standing back, Sansa watched as he took a couple bungee cords out of a pouch on the handlebars and strapped her bag to the back just over the tire. Once he was done, he grabbed the helmet hanging from his handlebar and put it on, kicking one long leg over the bike so he was straddling it. Sansa flushed at the sight and with shaking hands, strapped her own helmet on. 

"What about my skirt?" she almost whispered, just now realizing that it might be a problem. The man pushed his glasses up so they rested on his forehead and his grey eyes flicked down to her legs and lingered for a moment. Then he glanced back up at her face. 

"Tuck it in and scoot close. No one will see anything." 

Nodding, Sansa placed a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she threw a leg over the bike. Letting go of him, she smoothed her skirt down before sitting. Tucking it tightly around her thighs, she scooted as close as possible to the man in front of her. She thought she felt him chuckle when she wrapped her arms tightly around his middle, but then he was leaning forward a little and all the sudden the engine roared to life and Sansa jumped and gasped. 

"You ready?" he called over the engine noise and Sansa nodded against his back before something dawned on her. 

"Wait!" she yelled, leaning around his shoulder to see the side of his face. He tilted his head in her direction and waited. "I don't even know your name." 

"Sandor." he kicked up the kickstand. "Sandor Clegane." with that, he kicked off the road and Sansa held on tightly as he merged into traffic easily. Eventually she loosened up a little and was able to open her eyes and take in their surroundings, but before very long they were already pulling into the resort. Sandor bypassed valet and parked near the entrance in a place Sansa wasn't certain was actually meant to be a parking spot. Ignoring it, she followed him inside and was immediately blown away by the front lobby. Everything was so decedent and opulent. The floors were a deep red marble with golden swirls. The ceiling was high and the décor was beyond anything Sansa had ever seen. 

After spinning around and taking it all in, she realized Sandor was at the front desk and she rushed over just as he finished checking in. He motioned off to the side so others could check in and handed her a key card and a packet of papers. 

"Your room is 587 on the fifth floor. Joffrey also paid for some extras for you. Spa treatments and a message and other shit. It's all in there." he tapped the packet of paper he'd handed her and Sansa noticed his knuckles were tattooed as well. It spelled out HOUND the H on his thumb and the D on his pinky. There was also a hyper realistic sword on the underside of his forearm, the tip of the blade resting on his wrist. It was dripping blood and the words Valar Morghulis were written along the length of the blade. 

"Thank you." she said before realizing he hadn't actually bought any of it. "For the ride, I mean." 

He snorted at that and since he'd taken his glasses off once again when they came inside, she saw that he rolled his eyes a little. Then he looked at her again, and any trace of emotion was carefully removed from his face and eyes. Her breath caught in her throat when he suddenly reached out and caught her chin in his fingers. He didn't hold her with any force, nothing that she couldn't break by stepping back or turning her head. She did neither. For a long moment, he simply searched her face, almost like he was memorizing it. Like he didn't think he'd ever see it again and he wanted to remember exactly how she looked. For some reason it caused her eyes to start to water and her chin wobbled under his thumb. He felt the movement and removed his hand from her quickly. 

"Have a good week, Sansa." he gave her a short nod and then turned and made his way out the front door. Sansa watched him go, noting how everyone instinctually stepped out of his way and most avoided looking directly at him. 

She bit her bottom lip as she watched him walk out the doors. It was ridiculous, but she was actually sad that he was gone. 

Shaking herself out of it, she took her things and headed to the elevator. Her room was beautiful. A separate living and bedroom. Huge patio doors in the bedroom that opened out to a balcony that overlooked the pool area and further off, the ocean. Making herself busy, she emptied her bag and hung up her clothes. Once that was done, she stepped out on the balcony and sighed. 

This week wasn't going to go how she'd planned. She still had a million questions. She was still just so confused about what exactly had happened. 

But it didn't matter. She would enjoy herself this week on someone elses dime and forget about it all. There was no reason to keep poking at it. 

Resigned to such, Sansa made her way into the bathroom. A moment later, she came storming out.

"Oh, no." she shook her head angrily. "He's no getting off that easy."

Snatching her phone off the end of the bed where she'd dropped it, she punched Joffrey's number, or Sandor's number rather, and stood at the open patio doors with her free hand on her hip and the phone to her ear. Tapping her foot as she waited, it rang four times before he answered. 

"I have some questions for you, mister." she said before he could get a word in. 

"I figured you did." he said casually. "What is it, then?" 

"Oh, no." she shook her finger even though he couldn't see. "You'll tell me the truth to my face." 

"I never lied to you." he countered. 

"You left a lot of things out." she reminded him. "That's lying by omission, which is just as bad." 

There was a short pause. "I'll give you that. When do you want to meet up?" 

"Tomorrow." she decided. "Morning around nine. Is there somewhere to get coffee around here? I want to meet in public. No more risky decisions." 

"Good girl." he approved. "There's a coffee shop just down from the resort. We can meet there."

"Alright." she nodded. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, then." 

"Tomorrow then, Little Bird." 

"It's...it's Sansa." she corrected in a soft voice. "Little Bird seems too familiar now. I would rather you call me Sansa." 

There was a pause again, this one longer. If she hadn't been able to hear him breathing she would have thought he hung up on her he took so long to speak. 

"Fair enough, Sansa." 

 


	5. Chapter 5

There were a million ways Sandor had considered their first meeting at the airport to go. None of them were exactly pleasant, but seeing how hurt and confused the girl was had been far harder to witness than he'd realized. 

She was angry with him, that much was obvious. For damned good reason, too. What Sandor hadn't considered was that she would actually want to talk to him again. That made him nervous, but also a little proud of her too. She wasn't going to let him get off easily and she was going to make sure he owned up to his bullshit. He respected that, even if he wasn't looking forward to having to do that. 

Arriving at the coffee shop a bit early, Sandor ordered his coffee and a scone before sitting in a tall table next to the windows. The coffee shop was alright, a little more on the expensive side than the one he normally went to closer to his place. Since it was on the main strip of the city it was fairly busy as well, but the blueberry scone was pretty damn good. It didn't have the vanilla icing the Braavosi bakery he lived over put on theirs, but it was still good. It gave him something to pick at while he waited for Sansa.

She showed up early as well, but didn't look around the shop so never noticed him already there. Instead she went straight to the counter and ordered her drink and some sort of muffin. He watched as she paid the barista with a polite smile and a thank you. She was dressed similarly to the way she was yesterday. The same knee length flowy skirt, although this one was an olive color. Her maroon floral top was tucked in neatly and buttoned up primly giving off a sort of grandma vibe, or maybe a librarian feel. But when she turned around and caught sight of him easily, he amended that thought. She was just too damned pretty to give off a grandma vibe. The librarian thing was also out...she wasn't wearing glasses. 

Noting the fact that she didn't smile sweetly at him as she did others she passed, Sandor sat back in his chair and followed her approach to the table. She reached it without speaking to him and carefully sat her plate and mug on the table before gracefully pulling herself into the tall chair. After smoothing her skirt down and wiggling to get comfortable, her blue eyes finally met his. 

"Good morning." she said sweetly, but there was still no smile. 

"Morning." he sat forward and picked up his coffee and took a drink.

"It's Sandor Clegane, right?" she asked and Sandor nodded. "Alright, Sandor. I want to know everything. What happened, when it happened, why it happened. The truth." she gave him a pointed look. "The entire truth, with nothing left out." 

So he told her. Starting with how Joffrey initially gave him the phone, Joff's idea to get her to come down, the attack on that girl, and his actions afterwards. He told her all of that, and everything in between. He told her exactly the type of person Joffrey was and how things had gotten with him in the end. He gave his reasons, and his excuses, for keeping up the charade with her. While he spoke, Sansa listened intently, picking at her muffin and occasionally sipping at her drink. Every once in a while she would interject with a question or for clarification. Her face was an open book while he spoke. Every emotion she felt flitted across her features and he didn't have to question what she thought about Joffrey once he'd told her exactly who he was. 

"I'm not saying it was right." he finished. "But it's what happened. The entire truth."

Sansa nodded, looking down as her fingers twirled her mug around. After a few moments, where Sandor assumed she was taking in all that he had said, she looked back up at him. She searched his face for a bit, then glanced out the window they sat next to. His bike was right outside and he watched her look at it before she looked back at him in curiosity. 

"Are you in some sort of bike gang?"

That was not at all what he was expecting her to ask after he'd spilled the entire story. It took him by such surprise that he almost spit out his coffee with a surprised laugh. 

"What?" he furrowed his brow in confusion. "No. Why would you think that?" 

"Well." she said the word like it was an explanation on its own. But then she continued. "You look like one with the way you dress." she motioned to his denim vest that was on the back of his chair, then her eyes trailed across his arms with all their tattoos and Sandor snorted. 

"What's that make you?" he questioned. "President of a knitting club?" 

"Oh." she immediately brightened and a smile spread across her face, excited surprise in her tone. "It's actually an embroidery group. We did do a knitting class once. I'm not president, though. I don't have the time for that position. Last year I was the treas...oh." she stopped when Sandor started laughing. He couldn't help it. He'd meant the question to be mocking since she'd made a judgement about him, but that she actually was in a sewing group tickled the shit out of him. 

Once he'd calmed himself, he found her watching him with her lips pressed together and a brow raised. "You were mocking my clothes." she supplied and Sandor shrugged. 

"You judged me by mine." he reminded her. 

"I wasn't judging you." she defended. "If you were in a bike gang I wouldn't judge you. Not unless it was an illegal one that committed crimes."    

"I'm not part of any sort of gang." he assured her. "Biking or otherwise." 

"That's good." she nodded, starting to pick at what was left of her muffin. "I'm still angry at you, though." she peeked up at him and Sandor nodded, all the levity he'd been feeling just a moment ago shriveling into nothing. 

"Don't blame you." he pushed his empty plate away and sat back in his chair. "I'd be pissed at me too."

"I guess the only thing that I don't understand, the main reason why I'm so hurt, is why you didn't just tell me." she said sadly, eyes searching his face like she might find the answers there. Hearing her say that she was hurt because of him caused the dull ache of his guilt to flare painfully.

"I..." he paused, wondering just what to say. The truth was painful for him, and it left him emotionally vulnerable. Something he didn't like at all. But, he'd promised her the entire truth, so he steeled himself and pulled his shoulders back in a subconscious show of strength. "At first it was because I was told to. Joff was my boss, the source of my livelihood. I did what he instructed in everything, and this was just another thing. By not pretending to be him, by still being myself behind his name, was a way to rebel without being outwardly disobedient. Then..." he paused, making sure she was still fully looking at him when he said this part. "Then, after a while, I just liked talking to you. It's no secret I don't look like Joffrey fucking Baratheon." he angled his head to the side so his scars were in full view. "I didn't want to give it up, so I kept my mouth shut." 

For a while Sansa sat silently. She didn't fidget or look away or show him anything. She just watched him. Then she gave a little shake of her head. 

"Didn't you realize that I enjoyed talking with you, too?" she asked softly, leaning forward to place her hands on the table. "If you would have told me, if you would have just explained..."

"Then what?" he cut her off. "You'd be pissed, don't deny that. Even if you decided that you wanted to keep talking, you'd want a picture of me at least. You can't honestly sit there and say you'd willingly carry on like we were knowing I looked like this. Knowing that I was nothing more than someone's guard dog with a disfigured face. Girls like you don't treat guys like me the same way you do guys that look like Joffrey." 

"Girls like me?" her chin tilted up at the same time one of her brows lifted. 

"Rich, entitled beauties that look on dating sites for pretty boys with fat wallets." he countered meanly and immediately felt bad when a flash of hurt crossed her eyes. 

"You don't know girls like me." she looked off to the side, out the window, then looked back at him. "But, I don't know men like you, either." She waited, considering her next words and Sandor got the feeling if she chose to say what she was thinking, it would mean something big for him. Something likely life changing. 

"I have a proposal for you, Mr. Clegane." she finally said, and the silent confidence with which she held herself told Sandor she'd come to a decision of where he stood with her. 

"Don't call me Mr. Clegane and I'll consider your proposal." he countered, grinning a little, unaccountably pleased when she smiled back. 

"As you wish." she gave a brief nod. "I have six more days here in Kings Landing, with basically nothing to do except the few odds and ends that Joffrey had purchased for me. I've always wanted to come here, and now that I am, I'd like to experience it. I would also like to get to know you. This time as fully yourself, Sandor Clegane. If you would like to do that." 

"You want to get to know me?" he lifted a brow in confusion. "You want to spend time with me after I kept this big secret from you?" 

"You told me the truth." she cocked her head to the side a little, a soft smile on her lips. "I don't believe in holding grudges. Life is far too short. Besides, you can look at it as a way to make it up to me." 

Sandor sat heavily back in his chair, completely shocked at her willingness to work towards forgiving him. Her desire to spend time with him and get to know him was something he hadn't been prepared for in the least. 

It was also an opportunity he wasn't going to turn away from. 

"Alright, Sansa." he nodded, just catching himself from calling her by the nickname he'd given her. Maybe sometime again soon. "I accept your proposal." 


	6. Chapter 6

Liberally applying the highest strength SPF sunscreen she could find at the store, Sansa squinted against the bright sunshine as she looked out at all the people congregated on the busy beaches of Blackwater Bay. Nearly every inch of beach was dotted with colorful blankets and towels and umbrellas. Kids screamed in joyous laughter as they chased the waves rolling up onto the sand. Women in far more revealing bathing suits than her simple blue one piece sprawled out to catch some rays while the men were all showboating their bodies...most having nothing to really showboat. 

For one brief second, Sansa caught herself wondering what Sandor would look like in swim trunks and nothing else. It was quite plain to see even with his shirt on that he was incredibly fit. And judging from his arms, he was likely very hairy. 

Just the thought had her stomach feeling pleasantly swirly. 

She was nervous, though. Sandor was supposed to be meeting her here at the beach soon. They'd agreed to start here since it was close to the resort and Sansa couldn't wait to experience the warm ocean. She was worried about several things, though. She was worried that she and Sandor wouldn't click the way they had over the phone, that he might actually be a horrible person. Not that she really believed that, but the thought was still there. She was also worried that he might not actually be interested in her once he wasn't playing along for his boss. Obviously they were from far different walks of life. Not to mention Sansa was so very often self conscious of herself because of her experiences with Petyr and Harry. The fact that she was surrounded by scantly clad women who were all far more open with their bodies wasn't helping any. 

Tugging at the bottoms of her denim shorts, she thought maybe she would have found a pair that weren't quite so long. Maybe she didn't need the filmy white wrap top either. This was a beach, after all. 

"Sansa?" she jumped at the sound of her name, looking back over her shoulder to find Sandor standing there. He was wearing black board shorts with dark grey pinstripes, a white cotton shirt, and white sneakers. One of the sleeves of his shirt was rolled up around what she assumed were a pack of cigarettes, like some greaser out of the fifties. Nothing else about him reminded her of the fifties, however. Not his long black hair, or his tattoo covered arms. Not his hairy legs that were shaped nicely with muscle. 

"Hi." she finally found her voice. "How are you this afternoon?" she asked, wanting to avoid an awkward silence. 

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Fine. You?" 

"Good." she smiled. "It's lovely outside." 

Sandor nodded, looking around the beach behind her for a second. "Where to?" 

"Oh, I found a lovely spot." she motioned towards it, then bent and picked up the beach bag the resort had provided. Together they picked their way through the throng of people to a less crowded spot near the rocky cliffs. Sansa pulled out the beach blanket inside and shook it out. Sandor grabbed one corner and helped her spread it out. Once it was settled, she kicked her sandals off and sat down on one side. A moment later, Sandor did as well. 

"Do you come here often?" she asked after a silent moment. 

"Nope." he shook his head, leaning back to recline on his elbows. "It's always too crowded. I sometimes take Stranger for a run up there." he pointed towards the cliffs over looking the bay. 

"So Stranger is real?" she asked, surprised that she hadn't considered the fact that he was real and not just a ploy to keep her interested. Sandor tipped his head to the side so he was looking at her. 

"Yeah. Did you think he wasn't?" 

"I don't know." she shrugged. "Where is he now?" 

"At my apartment. The beach doesn't allow dogs." 

"Where is your apartment?" 

"Closer to Flea Bottom, but not quite there." 

"What's Flea Bottom?" she asked. 

"The shit part of town. I live just on the edge of shit, but not completely out of it. The apartments decent, though. No neighbors and I get free parking out back for my bike and truck. It's above a Braavosi bakery so at least that filters out the stink of the city." 

Sansa turned slightly on the blanket to look at him better, eyeing the flat expanse of his stomach where his shirt lay loosely. "How on earth do you keep that body while living above a bakery?" she shook her head. "If I had access to a bakery all the time like that I would weigh a ton." 

Sandor snorted in a sort of shocked way, one hand grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt and lifting it up just under his breastbone. Sansa's jaw fell open. He looked like some sort of marble carved replica of the Warrior. Only better, because he was real. And hairy. With more tattoos here as well. Suddenly her fingers itched to touch him. Instead, he lightly slapped his hand against his own stomach, startling her enough to look up at his face. 

"It takes work." he admitted, pulling his shirt back down. "I run and lift. Keeping my body strong was an asset to my work. Good genes and a fast metabolism were the only good things that came with being a Clegane. Besides," he shrugged. "I don't particularly enjoy sweets." 

"I love sweets." she disclosed. "Once, when I was younger, there was a big, long freeze back home. None of the lemon trees were producing and I wanted lemon cake so badly. My father sent off to Dorne for some. It wasn't until I was older that I realized how expensive that must have been." she laughed a little at the memory. "And I didn't share any. I ate them all myself." 

"The benefits of having a rich daddy." Sandor mocked and Sansa had to look away from him quickly. Her eyes stung and an ache started in her throat. 

"He died." she said softly, looking down at the red beach blanket. There was the resort emblem in the middle in gold thread and she picked at it instead of looking at him. "Along with my mother. 

"Damn." he cursed, more to himself than her. "You never told me that." 

"You never told me a lot of things, either." she reminded him, looking up at him. 

"True." he nodded. "How'd they go?" 

"There was a political shooting at his office building. Mother had been there to bring him lunch. They were both shot and killed." 

"So when you said you were just keeping your baby brother that one night, what'd you mean?" 

"My older brother, Robb, and I were the only two of age when they died. We made certain the younger ones weren't put into the care of the state. Robb moved back into the family house and while he worked to provide for us, with the help of the money mother and father had left us, I stayed home. I became the housekeeper and substitute mother for my three younger siblings. Once Arya, my sister, graduated high school, she stepped in to help so I was able to start online classes for university."

"That's a lot for a girl as young as you to take on."

"I'm not a child." she said defensively. "And what was I supposed to do? They're my family. Wouldn't you have done it for your brother if you had one?"

His jaw clenched tightly and a look equal parts terrifying in its raw anger and heartbreaking in its pain nearly took her breath.

"I do have a brother." he nearly growled. "He's older. And, no. When our parents died, I got as far the fuck away from him as I could."

"Why?" she asked gently and almost regretted it with the way his eyes flashed.

"See these." he pushed his hair back to show off the ruin of the left side of his face and ear. "He did this to me, and a lot worse to our parents and sister."

"But how?" she asked, horrified. "Why? Why would your own brother do such a thing to you?"

"Gregor wasn't right. Never had been. There'd been signs from early on, but they were ignored. He scared my parents, especially my dad, so they just stepped to the side and let him do what he would." he sat up suddenly, bringing his knees up and resting his arms on them. "Enough of this shit." he pushed up to stand. "Come on. We'll swim."

Deciding it was best not to press any further, Sansa stood up and removed the wrap and her shorts. Sandor pulled his shirt off and put his cigarette pack in his shoes.

The water was warm, far warmer than the waters when she'd gone to White Harbor. After challenging Sandor to a race to the buoys, which he won, they made their way back to shallower waters where they just sort of floated around and chatted for a long time. Long enough that Sansa's stomach started to growl.

"You said you knew where to get good grub." she reminded him. "I could go for some good grub right about now."

Sandor laughed, but nodded and together they went back to the beach blanket and dried off.

"Let's sit out here for a bit so the sun can dry us off better." she decided, laying back on the blanket next to her clothes. Sandor didn't say anything, but sat down next to her. She had her eyes closed, but heard him moving about and then the snick of a lighter. Opening her eyes, she looked up and over at him as he took a deep draw off the cigarette. He exhaled slowly, a cloud of smoke coming out to be whipped away by the wind. The smell wafted over to her and she scrunched her nose against it at the same time Sandor glanced down at her, cigarette already to his lips again.

"What?" he asked around the filter.

"Nothing." she shook her head, but could tell he didn't believe her. "I mean, don't you worry about cancer? Or even just the smell. Doesn't it bother you?"

"No." he shrugged, inhaling and then exhaling the smoke again. "I don't notice the smell anymore I guess. As for cancer, well, we're all going to die one day."

"True, but lung cancer seems a rough way to go."

He tilted his head in acknowledgement of that, but still took another drag. "Does it bother you?" he asked, looking down at her where she lay.

"Honestly?" he nodded. "Yes. The smell is...ick." she scrunched her nose again. "My brothers best friend, Theon, smokes. He kissed me once when we were still in high school and it tasted awful. Like ash and tar. Don't girls complain about it when you kiss them?"

Sandor shrugged, but leaned over off the blanket and stubbed the still mostly full cigarette out in the sand before putting it back in the pack. "I don't kiss _girls,_ and no. No one has ever said anything. Most complaints revolve around the scrape of scars. I don't do much kissing anyway."

Sansa eyed the burnt corner of his mouth. His lips were twisted and rough looking. They didn't quite close all the way. It probably would feel odd against her own lips, but she didn't think it would be unpleasant. She actually thought the contrast between the soft, full unburnt part of his lips and the scars would be interesting. It might even feel good.

Realizing she was staring at his mouth, she flicked her eyes back up to his to find him watching her. The look in his eyes made her stomach flip and her cheeks to heat.

"I'm hungry." she quickly said, sitting up to pull on the wrap top. Grabbing her shorts, Sansa stood to pull them on and a second later Sandor stood up as well and started putting his things back on. He helped her fold the blanket back up and shove it into the bag.

"Ready?" he asked and Sansa nodded.

She was ready. Ready and excited to spend time with this man and get to know him even better. Ready to examine this comforting yet exciting feeling being around him gave her.  


	7. Chapter 7

"What do you mean you don't drink?" Sandor asked from across the café table. Sansa didn't look affronted by the disbelief in his voice, and simply shook her head.

"I mean, of course I've had a drink before." she amended. "A glass of wine once or twice, but I'm not fond of the taste. I've never gotten drunk, or even tipsy. It just never sounded appealing to me."

"But..." Sandor shook his head, not able to wrap his mind around what she was saying. "You're twenty four. You mean to tell me at twenty four you've never been to a party or a bar and gotten shitfaced?"

Shooting him a disapproving look for his curse, Sansa pushed her salad around on her plate. "I was barely eighteen when my parents died. With the boys and Arya and dealing with everything I never had the time to go to parties or bars. Besides, getting, as you so eloquently called it, shitfaced sounds terrible." 

Sandor coughed, having just scooped the last of his soup into his mouth when she said shitfaced. She'd never cussed before that he'd heard. From the way she nearly whispered the word and flushed afterwards, he'd bet she didn't do it often, if at all. Wiping his mouth off with his napkin, Sandor decided he liked how blushing made her look. He wanted to know what all it would take to make her blush. Probably not a lot, given the fact that her blush was deepening as he watched her intently. He just knew it was also spreading out across her chest even though it wasn't visible with the high necked sundress she was wearing.

"I'm taking you to a bar." he finally declared, lifting his eyes back to hers instead of trying to picture her flushed skin.

"To get me drunk?" she asked with a raised brow. "That is very ungentlemanly."

With a snort, Sandor sat back in his chair. "I'm not a gentleman, but I'm also not a slimy creep either. If you wanna get drunk, get drunk, but I'm not encouraging it. You said you wanted to experience Kings Landing. You can't say that you have until you've been to one of the dive bars and listened to shitty live music."

Sansa bit the corner of her bottom lip, worrying it as she studied him. "Alright. When would you like to go?"

"It's Friday. I normally meet up with a couple of my friends tonight. You could come with me." 

"That sounds fun." she brightened. "I'd love to meet your friends." 

"Don't get any high hopes." he eyed her. "They're all assholes." 

"Then they suit you." she teased with a small grin and Sandor chuckled. He liked that she felt comfortable enough to tease him.  

"I've got to drop off something I was working on. After that I can pick you up at the resort. We'll eat nasty bar food for dinner. It's part of the experience." 

"What were you working on?" she asked. 

"Uh, just a painting." he shrugged. "My buddies girlfriend owns a flower shop and asked me to paint some stuff for her shop." 

"Wait, wait, wait." she waved both her hands in the air with a wide eyed look. "You paint? And you never thought to tell me that?" 

"You never asked." he smirked and she rolled her eyes. 

"Can I see some of your work?" she asked excitedly. 

"You've already seen some." he laid out his arm on the table and flipped it over so the sword was showing. "I did the writing on this. And they hounds head on my hand." he flipped it over and tapped the back of his hand where the hounds head was. 

"Oh my goodness!" she leaned forward and grabbed his hand with both of hers, pulling it closer to her face. He ignored the heat that her touch brought and hoped that she wouldn't notice the goosebumps that erupted on his skin. "Sandor, that's amazing." she looked back up at him after a moment, still holding his hand. 

"It's not my best work." he cleared his throat. "It's hard to do on yourself. You'll meet my friend tonight. Bronn. I've given him a few of his tattoos." 

"That's it!" she beamed, squeezing his hand. "That's what you should do. Open up your own tattoo parlor." 

Sandor huffed, dropping his eyes from her face to their hands. "That costs a lot of money to start up." he turned his hand over, taking her fingers and rubbing the smooth pads of them. Her skin was soft and warm, more than two shades lighter than his own. Small, too, compared to his. Her fingers were long, though. Thin and elegant with perfectly manicured nails thanks to her morning in the resorts spa. Sandor couldn't remember touching something so perfect. 

"That's what banks are for." she said softly and when Sandor flicked his eyes back to her face it was to find her staring at their hands. 

"A business loan?" he questioned, wanting to keep the conversation going so she didn't focus so hard on their hands touching, worried she might pull her hand away from him.

"Yes." she looked up at him again and Sandor fought against reacting as her thumb ran over the backs of his fingers. "Have you never considered it before?" 

"I have, actually." he nodded. "That's what I was saving up for." 

"You should do it." she smiled encouragingly.

"There's already a shit ton of tattoo shops around the city." he shook his head. "Probably too much competition." 

"Hm." she made a humming sound, eyes flitting to their hands again. He thought maybe she was going to say more, but their waiter came by to drop off their ticket. Sansa quickly let go of his hand and started going through her purse. They had a bit of an argument over the bill before Sansa convinced him to at least let her pay for her own meal.

Even after they left and she went back to the resort for a massage that Joffrey had paid for and he headed to Marge's shop, his fingers never stopped tingling.

-

"Oh, honey!" Margaery beamed when Sandor walked into the bar, Sansa following closely to his side. "Aren't you just the prettiest thing that's ever walked into this dingy place?" she cast an approving glance at Sandor before pulling Sansa in a hug. It seemed to surprise her because she made a little shocked noise, but eventually returned the hug. 

"Thank you." she pulled back, stepping back next to Sandor. "I'm Sansa, by the way." 

"Margaery. And this is my lovely boyfriend, Bronn." 

Bronn slid out of his barstool and offered Sansa his hand. "Nice to meet you, doll." 

"You too." Sansa said sweetly and when they dropped hands, Bronn looked back at Sandor. 

"Good on you, dog." he said under his breath but still loud enough for both girls to hear him. 

"Fuck off." he shoved Bronn. "Where's the others?" 

"Playing pool." he motioned back towards the back of the bar. "Grab you and your _lady friend_ a drink and come on back." 

"The cosmo's here are to die for." Margaery tossed over her shoulder as Bronn pulled her towards the pool tables. 

"Just a water." Sansa told him once they were gone and after he ordered her water and his beer, they made their way back to everyone else. There was a fair amount of ribbing and teasing as she was introduced to Beric and Thoros. Tormund was actually polite for once. Sansa and Margaery got on well, even if Sansa kept close to him.

He was onto his third beer when things went to shit. Marg and Bronn and headed back up to the bar to order another round and the others were busy playing darts. Sansa was sitting on one of the tall barstools and Sandor was leaned against the tall table next to it. 

"How long have Margaery and Bronn been together?" she asked, stirring her straw around in her glass. 

"A couple months, I guess." he shrugged. "I haven't kept count." 

Sansa laughed lightly, glancing over at the bar where Bronn had Marg trapped against it with his body while they waited for the drinks. Her hands were in his back pockets and from the looks of it they were heavily making out. Sandor grinned when Sansa blushed brightly and looked away quickly. 

"They're very...affectionate." 

"Early stages of a relationship." he said by way of explanation. "Always wanting sex. You know how it is." 

"No, actually." she said, eyes still on the ice in her water glass. "I've never had a real relationship." 

"Neither have I, but sex is still sex." he took a drink of his beer and then looked back at her. Her cheeks were bright red, and even her ears were starting to flush. The nervous way she kept avoiding his gaze caused a light bulb to go off in his head. 

"Holy shit." he said, louder than he realized. "You're a fucking  _virgin_?" 

"No fucking way." Tormund's voice and loud laugh broke through the shock in his head and he realized that their entire group was now staring at them. Even Bronn and Margaery had returned in time to hear his overly loud declaration. 

"You can't be serious." Margaery laughed lightly. "You are far too pretty. Surely some guy swept you off your feet." 

Sandor looked back at Sansa and just the look of horror and embarrassment on her face made him feel like a complete and utter prick. For one terrible second he thought she was going to start crying with the way her chin wobbled. She swallowed hard, blinked a few times, and then let out a little laugh. 

"My feet have always been firmly on the ground." she tried to tease. "Excuse me." she slid off the stool. "I think I'm going to try one of those cosmos after all." 

Sandor watched her walk away, frozen where he was. 

"Not a fucking chance." Tormund said again. "Not with an arse like that." 

"Shut the fuck up, Tor." Sandor snapped, looking around at everyone. "All of you keep your damned mouths shut. Don't mention it again or I'll beat all your asses." 

Thankfully everyone listened. A little too late, though. Sansa had already been embarrassed because of him, and a personal secret of hers had just been spewed out to a room full of people she hardly knew. Judging from the way she downed the entire cosmo at the bar before ordering a second one, she planned on doing her best to forget about it.

Sandor pushed his half full beer away from him. It looked like he was going to need to keep a level head so he could keep an eye out for the little bird. 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Sansa was certain Margaery was her best friend now. She had to be, obviously. She was pretty and sweet and she complimented Sansa's dress when Margaery had helped her to the restroom. Tormund was hilarious, though she didn't quite understand anything he said. He just looked funny with his big bushy beard and silly facial expressions. Sandor kept telling her he wasn't that funny, that she had just drank too much, but Sansa didn't know about that. 

What she did know was after several of those cosmos she didn't really care that everyone knew her deepest, darkest secret. And also her head was very swimmy. Too swimmy at times. She wasn't really sure whos idea it was, but together she and Sandor left the bar. They took a cab, but Sansa wasn't certain if they did a whole lot of talking. He was big and warm and solid beside her and his shoulder was super comfy and when she laid her head on it the world stopped spinning so violently. She was somewhat aware when the cab pulled to a stop, but she tried to keep her eyes shut as much as she could when Sandor helped her out. She opened them once to find him leading her down a small alleyway between two buildings but for some reason she wasn't worried about that. She trusted Sandor. Next they were going up stairs but her legs weren't cooperating and she kept pitching backwards. 

"Not far now, girl." Sandor tightened his hold on her. "Just a few more steps." 

Sansa giggled, because that was funny for some reason, and clutched at his arm. A few moments later they were inside somewhere and Sandor was guiding her to lay down on a soft surface that smelled remarkably like him. 

"Can I ask you something?" she slurred, eyes shut while Sandor carefully removed her shoes. She didn't wait for an answer. "I'm not mad at you about what you did." 

There was a pause, and then he picked up her other foot to remove that shoe. "That's not a question." 

"Oh." she laughed, opening her eyes and struggling up onto her elbows so she could see him better. "That wasn't the question." 

"Then what is it?" he tossed her shoes somewhere off to the side and then sat down next to her hip. 

"Will you kiss me?" she asked with a smile, eyes fluttering heavily with the effort to keep them open. Sandor scooted closer to her and one of his hands came up to hold the side of her face. Sansa giggled at the touch, but let her eyes fall shut and tipped her face up to allow him better access. She sat that way for a long moment, but it was getting harder and harder to stay awake, especially with her eyes shut. 

The next thing she knew was the heavenly softness of a pillow beneath her head and she gave up any pretense of a struggle to stay awake.

-

Waking up was hard, which was unusual because Sansa was usually up early with no problem. Her head felt thick, though, and her eyelids were so heavy. For a while she just lay completely still, taking stock of herself and trying to remember last night. Only fragments came to her at first, but then she remembered the bar and the embarrassment and the cosmos...so many nasty cosmos. She somewhat remembered Sandor taking her somewhere, probably his place, and she was almost certain he'd kissed her before she went to sleep.

Heavy breathing beside her forced the issue of opening her eyes and it was to look straight up into the huge black face of a massive dog. Sansa gasped, surprised and then frightened that something so big and mean looking was so close to her. She slowly scooted further away from him, keeping her eyes on him, and clutched the blanket up under her chin. 

"Sandor!?" she hollered his name carefully, hoping he wasn't too far away. A second later he was standing in the open frame of the bedroom door. He was wearing grey lounge pants and a dark green t shirt. When she looked over at him, he smirked at her. 

"Sansa, meet Stranger." he motioned to the dog still staring at her. "Don't look so scared. He wont hurt you." 

"Hi Stranger." Sansa lifted a hand out towards him. The dog lowered his nose into her fingers and sniffed for a moment before giving a snort and jumping off the bed, trotting out of the bedroom. 

"Good morning." she greeted Sandor, sitting up properly in bed, aware of the fact she was still wearing her dress from last night. It was tangled up around her legs but the blanket was securing her modesty. 

"Morning. How're you feeling?" 

"Um...my head hurts. And my mouth is dry and tastes disgusting." 

He snorted at that, then pushed off the door frame and opened a door inside the bedroom, which turned out to be a bathroom. "There's ibuprofen and a wrapped toothbrush in the medicine cabinet. Toothpaste on the sink. Do what you need and I'll fix us some breakfast." 

After thanking him, she waited until he left the bedroom before getting up and looking around the room. It was a little on the smaller side. Big enough for a king size bed she'd been sleeping in. There was no head board or foot board and nothing hanging on the walls. A single nightstand on what was obviously his side of the bed held a lamp, a dirty drinking glass, and a remote. There was a dresser across from the bed that had a TV on it. A weight bench was pushed up against the wall under the window. 

The bathroom was surprisingly clean. A hamper was hanging on the back of the door and the old fashioned clawfoot tub looked inviting. She couldn't help but peak inside the curtain to see a bottle of two in one shampoo and another of body wash. Going back to what she was supposed to be doing, Sansa took some medicine and quickly brushed her teeth. Her hair was a wild mess, but there was a hairbrush sitting on the lip of the sink so Sansa run it through the tangles before heading out into the living room to find Sandor. 

The rest of the apartment was one big room, the kitchen separated from the living room by a small island. It was clean if not overly homey. A sofa and two recliners. A big TV. There was no kitchen table, but there was two barstools at the island. There were some things hanging on the walls in here, and they all seemed to be paintings. Probably things that Sandor had done himself. There was an easel sitting near double glass doors that led to a balcony, a table of paints and brushes and canvases next to it. 

"You okay with scrambled eggs and bacon?" Sandor asked from the kitchen and Sansa made her way to the island to sit down. 

"Yes, thank you. That sounds good." 

Sandor nodded, then platted the food on two mismatching plates before handing her one. He stayed on the other side of the island, standing while he ate. They didn't talk for a while and Sansa dug into her food, surprised to find herself so hungry. 

"Look, about last night." Sandor sat his fork down and Sansa looked up from her plate. "It was a shitty thing for me to do. You just surprised me, is all, but I shouldn't have shouted it out like that. I'm...I'm sorry." 

Sansa sat her fork down as well, pushing her plate to the side so she could focus properly on him. "It's alright. Really. I know you didn't mean to embarrass me, and you stopped the others from saying anything about it. Honestly it was probably something I shouldn't have even mentioned at a bar." 

"You didn't." he reminded her. "I guessed it." 

"Right." she blushed. "But still. I'm not mad at you." 

He huffed at that, and Sansa looked up to see him shaking his head. "Why?" he nearly growled. "You should be. You should be mad at me about last night and you should still be pissed at me about lying to you over the phone. It doesn't make any fucking sense that you aren't." 

Sansa swallowed, not having expected him to be angry. "Life is too short to hold onto anger. Besides, I was more hurt than angry about the phone calls, but you explained and I understand. And last night wasn't on purpose. You were just surprised, is all. Like you said." 

"You're a sweet girl." he said it accusingly. "Some day it'll get you hurt." 

"Sometimes in life you get hurt. I don't think it matters what type of person you are. It's just apart of life. But I don't want to be a bitter, angry person. I'd rather embrace life and enjoy it." 

"Then why haven't you had sex?" he surprised her by asking. "It's one of life's enjoyments. And don't tell me you've never had the chance. You're gorgeous. Guys would fall over themselves for a chance. Are you waiting for marriage or something?" 

"No." she let out a surprised laugh. "Nothing like that. Things in life got so complicated after mother and father died. There was this man, a family friend. He...well, lets just say he wasn't very nice. My experience with him put me off wanting anything like that for a while. At least not until it was with someone I truly wanted and felt safe with. That I trusted fully." 

"Did he..." he clenched his jaw tightly, knuckles pressing into the countertop. "Did he touch you?" 

"Yes." she said carefully. "Not...not fully. Just unwanted kisses and a few inappropriate touches. He used me, manipulated me. I was disgusted by him, and afterwards by myself for a long time." 

Sandor looked off to the side, not saying anything but his posture did relax some. Neither of them said anything for a while, but Sansa needed to ask him something about last night. 

"Last night, when we got back here, I think I asked you a question." she ventured, face hot and hands fidgeting on the countertop. 

"Yeah." he looked back at her, eyes locked in on her with a sort of charged intensity that made her stomach flip. "What of it?" 

"Did I ask you to kiss me?" she ventured further, voice trembling just a little. He didn't vocally answer, but he did nod his head, never looking away from her. 

"Oh." she licked her lips and his eyes flicked down to follow the movement before coming back to hers. "Did...did you?" 

For a while he didn't answer, just stared at her. "No. I didn't. You were drunk. I may be a dog, but not the sort to take advantage of drunk girls. You didn't know what you were asking." 

With shaky legs, Sansa stood up from her stool and made her way around the island to stand in front of him. "I'm not drunk anymore." 

His nostrils flared. "No. You're not." 

"There's nothing for you to take advantage of." 

He licked his lips. "No. There's not." 

She stepped closer to him, tipping her head back to look up at him. "I know what it is I'm asking for." 

He reached up and grabbed her chin, holding her face steady so he could look at her. "What is it you're asking for?" 

"A kiss." she whispered, heart beating wildly. She brought her hands up to rest on his chest. "Would you kiss me, please?" 

A grin kicked up the good corner of his mouth. "Bloody polite little thing." he chuckled, then sobered, thumb coming up to coast over her bottom lip. "I told you once I don't do kissing. I haven't...I don't have a lot in the way of experience with this. I can't tell you that it's going to be enjoyable." 

"You should let me be the judge of that." she ran a hand up his chest and around his neck. "If you want to kiss me too, that is." 

The hand holding her chin dropped to cup her shoulder. He rubbed his lips together for a moment, then dipped down. Sansa kept her eyes open until she felt the tickle of his beard and mustache. Her eyes fluttered shut and she lifted her chin even more. For a long, frozen moment, he stayed there. So close, yet not enough. She felt his breath, the tremble of his hand on her shoulder. And then his lips against hers. 

Even though she was expecting it, waiting for it, the contact surprised her and she let out a small noise. Immediately he went to pull away, but Sansa firmed her hold on his neck and pushed up on her toes to kiss him back. They went slowly, soft, chaste kisses pressed against each other one after another before Sandor angled his head and Sansa worked with him to deepen it. He'd been right, there was a roughness to the scars on the corner of his lips, but it wasn't unpleasant. Far from it, actually. She tentatively touched the burnt side of his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. The low, whining noise that came from his throat sent shivers of pleasure throughout her body and the next thing she knew he was lifting her off her feet to better reach her. His tongue was shy at first, testing and tasting but when Sansa eagerly encouraged him by opening her mouth to him, he lost a bit of his hesitance and caution.

And it was brilliant.

Wrapping both arms around his neck, Sansa kissed him back with everything she had. Never had she felt so alive, so desired and full of desire. Sandor had turned at some point, sitting her bum on the island counter. One of his hands was threaded up in her hair and the other was cupping the outside of her thigh under the skirt of her dress. Sansa moaned at the contact, shifting herself closer to the edge of the counter so she could wrap her legs around him. The aching want and throbbing of her center was driving her mad and all she wanted was to rub against him like some sort of cat.

Sandor rumbled out a ragged breath, the hand on her thigh skimming up and around to squeezed her bottom and press her even closer. Sansa had to pull away from the kiss so she could gasp at the sensation. She opened her eyes to look at him pressed so tightly against her. His mouth was swollen and hanging open slightly to allow for his ragged breathing. His eyes were half lidded and hot, a raw want and need swimming in them. She grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him back to her mouth.

"Wait." he pulled back just a moment later. "This...we need to stop."

"Why?" she asked, kissing along his bearded cheek. "I want this. I want you."

"Gods." he breathed out, hands tightening on her briefly. "You've never done this before."

"I know." she pulled back to look at him. "But I want to. With you."

He was already shaking his head. "Sansa..."

"What?" she dropped her hands, suddenly self conscious. "Do you not want to?"

"Are you serious?" he lifted his one good brow and then pressed his hips into the cradle of hers. She gasped at the hard length of him pressing into her aching softness. "Of course I want to. But I think you're skipping a few bases, yeah?"

"Bases?" she repeated.

"Steps. We can fool around other ways without having to jump right into sex. Give you time to think about if you really want to do this with me."

Intrigued, Sansa wrapped her arms around his shoulders again. "Alright. What's the first step?"

Sandor chuckled, dropping a short kiss to her lips before extracting himself from her and smoothing her dress down for her. "First we both need to shower. And I need to take Stranger out for his run. You've got what, four more days here?"

She hadn't thought about that, actually. The reminder felt like a cold bucket of water. "Yes. Four more days."

"Then we have four days for it all." he grasped her face in his hands and leveled her with a somber, serious gaze. "Four days, little bird, and I'll give you whatever you want."  


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long. My ancient dinosaur of a laptop went on the fritz and I had to take it into the tech doc. They did all they could, but alas, nothing could save it. But I got a new laptop and I had everything saved and backed up so I didn't lose anything. 
> 
> Thank you for being patient with me. I hope you enjoy it after such a long wait!

Sansa took a cab back to the resort when Sandor left to take Stranger for his run. She was filled with a giddy sort of excitement that had her smiling to herself the entire time. Once she was got to her room and in the shower, she even burst out in a few giggles that she just couldn't contain. 

Sex. She was finally going to have sex. And Sandor was just so good about it all, not wanting to rush her. It was probably because he was concerned she would regret doing it with him, but Sansa knew she wouldn't. That was out of the question. Not even a possibility. Although she did have to admit she was happy to be doing things one step at a time, because she had very little experience to draw off. There was once in high school that she went to the movies with Theon after months of him begging. Afterwards he drove around, smoking cigarettes and looking for a quiet spot. They made out for a little bit and Theon had put his hands down her pants. Honestly he didn't really do anything except rub around. It didn't get her anywhere near anything, but Theon was eager with a short attention span. She'd rubbed him over his jeans and that was it. The full extent of her sexual experience with a partner. 

Theoretical knowledge would have to get her by. With a little bit of guilt and embarrassment she could admit that she had a soft spot for erotic romance novels. Her e-reader was stocked full of them. It was only putting that theory into practice. 

After her shower and a quick bite to eat at the café near the pool, Sansa sent Sandor a text asking if he wanted to catch a movie at the newly built drive in. He agreed but about an hour before she was set to head downstairs and meet him, a storm rolled in with thunder that shook her windows and lightening that threatened to put out the electricity. The front desk called up to her room and asked that she keep an eye on the news reports and told her where to go in case they needed to take shelter. In the North the storms they had to worry about were blizzards, not thunder storms and Sansa quickly decided she did not like them at all. She was sitting on the sofa in the front room, wrapped up in the throw blanket and shivering with nerves while watching the news, not really understanding anything they were staying other than it was severe and would probably last the rest of the evening and night, when a knock came at her room door. Her first thought that it was a member of the staff coming to tell her that she needed to take shelter so she jumped up and ran to the door, opening it without looking through the peep hole. 

"Sandor!" she nearly shouted his name in surprise. "I wasn't expecting you." 

"I've been texting you." he informed her. 

"Oh." she glanced back into the room, realizing she'd left her phone on the bed where she couldn't hear it over the sounds of the storm and the news she was watching. "I'm so sorry." 

"Can I come in?" he asked with a nod towards her room. 

"Of course." she stood to the side and ushered him in. "Of course. The storm just has me all flustered." 

"You not used to storms?" 

"Not this kind." she sat down on the sofa again and motioned for him to take a seat. "It's snow storms up where I'm from." 

Sandor nodded, pulling off his rain jacket and putting it over the back of the arm chair before tossing something into her lap. She grabbed it up, realizing it was a rented DVD of the movie they had planned on seeing at the drive in. 

"Oh, yah!" she smiled up at him. "This is great. Thank you." 

Sandor shrugged, then kicked his boots off before heading over to the entertainment center the TV sat on. Inside one of the cabinets was a DVD player and he easily hooked it up before putting the movie in. 

"What about the weather reports?" she asked once he was finished and sitting on the sofa next to her. 

"I've got an app on my phone." he assured her. "We'll know if there's something we need to worry about." 

The movie, Sansa admitted to herself half an hour later, wasn't very good. It was supposed to be a scary movie, but it really wasn't. It was more just bloody and gross. Not that it mattered. She and Sandor talked most of the time, voices hushed like they might be bothering someone who was paying attention to the movie. Somewhere around the halfway mark of the movie, Sandor had shifted and moved until he was leaning back against the arm of the sofa, one foot on the floor and his other leg stretched out along the back of the sofa. Sansa was sitting between those legs, her back resting against his chest and her knees folded up towards herself. She had already changed into her nightgown before he'd shown up, which left her legs bare to just above her knees. At first Sandor's arm had been laid across the back of the sofa, but eventually he'd moved it down to lay his hand on her knee. When she didn't shake him off or ask him to stop, he began to rub his fingers from her knee to the middle of her calf and then back up lazily. At first goosebumps rose on her skin, but they faded quickly under the warmth of his hand. 

"Your fingers are rough." she whispered after a moment, when he'd inched her nightgown up so he was also running his fingers over her thigh. At her words he stopped his movements but Sansa touched her hand to the back of his, urging him to keep going. 

"I've always worked with my hands." he answered, and somehow his voice seemed more raspy since he was talking lowly. Sansa angled her head up so she could look at him and when he tilted his head down to meet her eyes, she smiled at him. 

"I like it." 

She heard him swallow and his eyes flicked down to her lips and he leaned down even more, but stopped before reaching her. There was a hesitance in him that was endearing but it also broke her heart that he hadn't received positive feedback from a simple thing like kissing. So Sansa lifted her chin and pressed her lips to his instead of waiting for him. For a few seconds he just allowed her to kiss him, holding still and kissing back but not doing anything other than that. When Sansa twisted herself further to the side so that she could reach him better, he tightened his hand on her thigh and parted his lips over hers, taking the kiss from sweet and chaste to something heavier and heated. 

Sansa didn't know how long they kissed like that, but eventually her back was starting to hurt from the position and her neck and protesting it's angle. Reluctantly, Sansa pulled away from the kiss, her breathing coming in shallow pants and her lips still tingling. One random thing stuck out in her mind as she looked up at Sandor's hooded eyes. 

"You don't taste like cigarettes." she panted and Sandor stared at her for a second before huffing a laugh. 

"No." he shook his head. "Some little bird told me that kissing guys who smoke tastes nasty." 

Sansa grinned, her nose wrinkling. "They do." she agreed. "But you didn't have to do that for me." 

"That same little bird pointed out that lung cancer would be a shit way to go." 

With a laugh, Sansa extracted herself from their odd, twisted up embrace. Once she was sitting upright with her feet on the ground, she arched her back to work out the kinks and then glanced back over at Sandor who was watching her intently, still in the exact position he'd been in. 

"I'd like to keep kissing you." she told him, unable to help the embarrassed tone of her voice. 

Sandor grinned, then licked his bottom lip. "You're the one who stopped." 

"My back was hurting. That position was uncomfortable." 

It was probably something he didn't even realize he did, but at her words his eyes flicked behind her to where the double doors to the bedroom stood open. Just as quickly he was looking back at her, waiting. Realizing he wasn't going to offer up anything, that he was going to make it her choice, Sansa stood up from the sofa before reaching one hand out towards him. 

"Come on." she urged him up with her hand and he came willingly. Wrapping her fingers around his, she tugged him in the direction of the bedroom. He didn't say anything while she led him to the foot of the big bed. It was darker in here without any lights on and no TV playing. It was lit up occasionally by bolts of lightening and the electricity of the storm seemed to ripple in through the balcony doors, leaving Sansa feeling antsy and excited. 

"What are you doing?" Sandor finally asked when Sansa started propping pillows up. 

"I'm not sure." she said without looking back at him. "I want to keep kissing you. And more, too, I just don't know exactly what the next step is." finally she turned and looked at him. "I was hoping you could help me with that." 

Without answering, Sandor bent over and pulled off his socks. Casting a look at her, he rounded the bed and climbed on, sitting up against the headboard. With a movement of his hand and a jerk of his head, he asked her to join him. Getting onto the bed, Sansa crawled over to his side and sat down next to him. Sandor shifted to angle his body towards her and caught the back of her head with one big hand. Pulling her into another kiss, Sansa forgot about not knowing what she was doing or embarrassed by that fact. Instead she lost herself in the feel of him, the softness of his lips, the scratch of his beard, the rasp of his scars. She couldn't help the catch of her breath and the little moan that slipped out when he licked into her mouth. He responded with a grunt of approval and the hand that was cradling her head moved down to clutch at her hip. 

Sansa wasn't quite sure if it was his urging or her own devices, but either way she ended up straddling his lap, sitting far enough back on his thighs so that they weren't pressed all the way against each other, but close enough that the heat of him made her head swim. His hands mapped all of her curves, squeezing them appreciatively and Sansa didn't miss the way his chest hitched every time she let out a sound of pleasure, like he was surprised by the fact she liked being touched by him. 

Wanting more, wanting to press herself so tightly against him there was no space between them at all, Sansa shuffled forward and gasped when her center rolled over the hardness of him straining against his jeans. Sandor made a noise, half pained and half growl, and pulled his mouth away from hers as his hands gripped her hips tightly. For a moment they just stared at each other, breathing heavily and waiting for something more to happen. Sansa decided she should be the one to make that more happen. Holding his gaze, her entire body trembling with excitement and want and nervousness, she rolled her hips forward again, her mouth falling open at the feel of him rubbing against her. Sandor's jaw clenched tightly, the muscle there feathering. Sansa lifted a hand to touch his cheek and feel the movement for herself. 

It was then that she knew what the next step would be, at least for them. She wanted to know what it would take to cause this big, powerful, strong man to fall apart. Licking her lips, she pulled her hips away so there was less pressure between them, and Sandor still sat staring up at her, waiting. Always waiting for her. 

"I want to touch you." she whispered, letting her hands fall down his chest and stomach to rest at the waistband of his jeans. "But I don't know how." 

"It's not rocket science." he rumbled and Sansa giggled a little. 

"No, but I want to know what you like best." she stared at his throat instead of his face. "I want you...if you would, I want you to show me." 

A finger caught under her chin and lifted her face so she was looking at him directly. "You want me to show you?" 

"Yes." she whispered. "I want to watch you touch yourself so I can learn what it is you like." 

A big breath left him then, something close to shock washing across his hard features. For a moment Sansa thought he would deny her, and she would be okay with that because she didn't want him doing something he didn't want to do, but then he was reaching for his jeans button and heat swamped her body as she shifted back a little further to give him room. Once his jeans were undone, he paused and Sansa pulled her gaze away from the way the boxers he was wearing were straining and looked up at him. 

"Will you take off your nightgown?" he asked and Sansa swallowed a kneejerk denial and nodded. 

"If you'll take off your shirt also." 

Sitting up, putting his face close to hers once again, he jerked his shirt up and off before leaning back. She'd seen him shirtless, at the beach that day, but this seemed different. More intimate. Distracted by looking at him, she forgot her hesitance to take her own clothing off and shakily lifted herself up on her knees so she could pull the nightgown off. Under it she wore a simple pair of light purple cotton panties and because of the threat of needing to take shelter with other people, she still wore her bra. Nothing fancy about it, just serviceable and comfortable white satin. 

Sandor's grey eyes caught and held hers while he lifted his hips slightly and shifted his jeans and boxers down. Sansa stayed looking at him, unwilling to look away until he did even though she was dying to look down and see what was now exposed to her. Another beat passed and then his eyes drifted away from hers to look at her mostly exposed body. Following his cue, she glanced down at his lap and nearly let out gasp, but was able to stop herself. 

She'd seen penises before, in pictures and on TV but never in real life, except for the occasional misfortune of walking in on one of her brothers before they were dressed. But this...this was so very different. Big and flushed red with arousal, it almost looked angry, which suited Sandor just fine. And apparently her as well if the rush of desire and want that pulled her muscles tighter was any indication. Sandor's hands flattening themselves just under her throat surprised her and she watched him as he slowly ran his hands down her chest, across her breasts, down over her belly and then out to cup her hips. He paused there for a moment, fingers squeezing just a little, before continuing down the length of her thighs where they were pressed against the outside of his own. Then he moved his right hand from her knee to take hold of himself. Sansa had to open her mouth to accommodate her rapid breaths, eyes trained to the way he held himself tightly around the base. 

"I like a tight grip." his rasping voice washed over her, but she couldn't look away from what he was doing. "Nothing fast or fancy. Just firm strokes." matching action to word, his hand rose and fell up and then down his length. He did that for a while, mesmerizing Sansa with the way his fingers moved over his own skin, his other hand rubbing her thigh, shifting further towards the inside so that his knuckles brushed against the cotton covering her center. Unable to hold back any longer, Sansa leaned forward to put her hands on his stomach and feel the tightness and heat of his muscles and the springy rasp of the black hair that covered him. 

"Can I?" she whispered, peeking up at him with her hand hovering over where his was still working over himself. 

" _Fuck."_ he whispered, then grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand down on him. He let her go as soon as she wrapped her fingers around him and Sansa was left on her own to touch him. She mimicked what he'd been doing, gripping as tight as she dared as she stroked him up and down. She couldn't help but running a thumb over the very tip of him that peaked out from the sheath of his foreskin, excited and fascinated by the wetness she found their to aid in her movements. 

"Gods." he panted, both hands rubbing at her thighs now. "Sansa, I want to touch you too." he told her, letting his both his thumbs play at the leg bands of her underwear. 

"Yes." she nodded, hips unconsciously shifting into his touch. "Please." 

Without wasting another second, Sandor gripped her hips tightly with his left hand and with his right he dipped between her thighs, rubbing over the gusset of her panties. The pressure was maddening and Sansa could feel herself swell with heightened desire, want dampening the cotton as he touched her. She whined, hips shoving harder into his hand in frustration that it wasn't enough. 

"Inside?" he asked and Sansa frantically nodded her head, giving him the permission he needed. Shoving his hand into the waistband of her panties, Sansa let her head fall back on her shoulders with a loud moan when his bare fingers finally touched her aching flesh. Unconsciously her hand tightened even harder on him, her stroking coming to a stop while all her attention was focused on the feel of his fingers parting her and running through her wetness, searching and finally finding the swollen bundle he'd been looking for. 

"There?" he asked, sounding unsure and surprised to find her so receptive and Sansa again nodded frantically. 

"Yes." she nearly sobbed. "Right there." 

Prying her eyes open, she found Sandor watching her carefully, fingers twisting and rubbing and circling until Sansa was canting into the motion and nodding to him that it was just right, that it felt so good, and then she remembered she wanted to make him feel good too. Still holding his gaze, Sansa took back up her touching of him, adding in her second hand so that she could touch more of him. His chest started billowing, the muscles of his body shifting and tensing and a sheen of sweat broke out along his forehead and hairline. The lightening washed him in starkness, his eyes nearly black now with dark want. He seemed to be swelling under her hand and Sansa knew the same could be said about herself. She could feel herself welling up around his fingers with tension, her belly tightening with it, waiting and striving to break with pleasure. It happened when his fingers slid further down, one, and then two, fingers pressing into her wetness as far as he could make them go. She came like that, hips stuttering against his hand, his palm pressed tightly up against her clit and her body tightening around those wonderfully thick fingers that were pumping inside of her. 

"Oh..." was all she could gasp, the waves of bliss washing out everything else as she milked the sensation. She was barely down from her high when Sandor let go of her hip with his left hand and shaking fingers grasped hold of her wrist, moving her hand over him once again. Blinking heavy eyes open, she realized in her bliss she'd stopped rubbing him and that he was so close to his own end that his entire body was shaking with it. Tightening her grip, she took over the motions once again until his hips surged up off the bed and a groan that shook his chest trembled the air around them and he came, one of his hands coming up to cup the head of his cock and press it against his stomach so that he only made a mess on himself. 

Neither of them spoke for a moment, both breathing heavily. Sandor had his head leaned back against the headboard, eyes shut. One hand was still holding himself just above her own hand still wrapped around his softening cock. His other hand was still inside her panties, fingers lazily flexing as if to draw out the last trembles of her pleasure. Sansa blinked a few times, clearing the haze from her eyes to look down at him. He looked wrecked, in the best of ways, and when his own eyes opened to look up at her, she just knew she had to kiss him. How could she not, seeing that look of soft vulnerability in his eyes. 

It was a soft kiss, one of sated pleasure and thanks. Something sweet and gentle, showing him how he'd made her feel. He returned it just the same, and the smile on his face when she sat back nearly made her heart burst. She'd never seen him look so happy, so at ease. She was helpless against smiling back, giggling a little. 

"You're a quick learner." he finally said, breaking the silence they'd kept until then. 

"I had a good teacher." she laughed, giving him a wink. He chuckled as well, a warm and happy thing that she could listen to over and over again and never tire of hearing. She was sure of that. Just as she was sure she was going to lose her heart to him before she headed back home. 


	10. Chapter 10

The next day was hot and muggy, the air thick and heavy from the storm the night before. Stranger had cut their run short himself, the dog panting heavily when they were at their normal halfway mark so Sandor turned them around and headed back home. After doing a few sets on the weight bench, he got in the shower and finally let his mind wonder back to the night before with Sansa. 

No matter how it seemed, he hadn't gone to her room expecting anything. He'd already made himself a promise that she would control all of their sexual interaction together, and he would just be there to help guide her when she needed or wanted it. Also contrary to what some people thought, Sandor wasn't heavily experienced with sex. He had a lot of personal hang ups with intimacy and his own appearance. Which is why he chose so many tattoos. Covering himself in art seemed to detract from the hideousness of his scars. There had only been a handful of girls before Sansa, and at 36 years old he'd spent far more time alone with his own hand than with a partner. Even with those girls it hadn't been anything intimate. It was just sex, perhaps on the cold side with little aim except a moment of oblivion. Never had he been acquainted with any of them and with each he lost contact with the moment they were finished. There had never been kissing just to kiss, or touching to explore the other, and there was never a moment after to hold each other.

Not until Sansa.

In many ways he was just as inexperienced in these things as her. And last night...gods, last night she showed him just how intense things could be when there was a connection. The softness, the gentleness, the _intimacy_ of it all made his head spin. Not in an unpleasant way at all. It was something he wanted more of, hadn't realized it was something he'd been craving his entire life until she came around. He wanted it all with Sansa, but he also had to remind himself that it wasn't possible. In just three days, two not counting today, and she would head back North, miles and miles and hours and hours away from him. Back to her life that had absolutely nothing to do with him.

If he were a person who had more experience with the pain of heartbreak, he might be more cautious. As it was, he was going to take everything she was willing to give him in these next few days, and in turn he would give her everything she could want from him. When she left him he would decide if that was stupid or not. For now, he was going to enjoy her.

After getting out of the shower and dressing, he fed and watered Stranger before jumping on his bike and heading to the coffee shop he'd first met Sansa at. They spent close to two hours sitting together, talking and laughing over coffee and sandwiches. Sandor couldn't get enough of her blushes, which came quickly and easily today, even without him saying anything remotely suggestive. Sometimes it would happen during a lull in conversation and he couldn't help wondering if she were thinking about last night, or perhaps what the next step between them might be.

"Why the motorcycle?" she asked after declining a refill from the waiter.

"I like the sense of freedom." he glanced out the window where his bike was parked. "My entire life has been in service to other people. Riding was just for me."

"Do you think, if you go slow and promise to be extra careful, do you think you could take me on a ride?"

Sandor smirked. "I already gave you a ride." he reminded her.

"Yes, I know." she smiled. "But a longer one."

Paying their tab, this time without complaint from Sansa, he led her out to his bike. "I've only got the one helmet." he handed it to her. "I wasn't expecting you to want to ride."

"Thank you." she took it from him and he helped her adjust the chin strap so it fit correctly. Today was the first day since she'd been here that she wasn't wearing a skirt or a dress. The denim shorts were still a modest length, but it made him wonder if she'd had this planned when she dressed this morning.

"You do promise to be careful, don't you?" she asked carefully after he got on the bike.

"I wont let anything hurt you, little bird." he promised. "Now get on."

With a smile and a nod, Sansa climbed on behind him and scooted as close to him as possible. Her arms wrapped around his waist, hands tucking under the sides of his denim vest. It was probably to hot for such closeness, but Sandor damn sure wasn't going to complain.

He took her outside the city and, true to his word, he made sure to stay a safe speed and took all the turns carefully. After a bit she loosened her rib breaking grip on him and he felt her sitting more upright. He glanced back to see her taking in their surroundings with a small smile on her lips. Taking a longer route, he took her up to the hilltop that overlooked the city. He had to avoid some mud puddles left from the storm, but they made it to the top unscathed and clean. He shut the bike off and kicked down the stand.

"How was it?" he asked over his shoulder and Sansa giggled, her arms tightening around him briefly before letting him go to remove the helmet. He took it from her and sat it in front of him.

"That was lovely." she sighed, leaning into him again and resting her chin on his shoulder. "I can definitely see the appeal."

Without really thinking about it, he wrapped his arm over the one she had around his waist and entwined his fingers with hers. "I'll have you well and truly turned into a biker before you leave."

Sansa dropped her head, her forehead pressed to the side of his neck. "Don't talk about that." she whispered. "I don't like thinking about leaving."

Sandor tightened his grip on her fingers a moment before letting her go. "Get up." he urged and she did without question. Sandor dropped the helmet to the ground next to them and the scooted back on the seat. "Come here." he patted the seat in front of him and Sansa eyed it with a hint of unease.

"How am I supposed to sit?" she asked, peeking back up at him.

"Like you were, just facing me this time."

There was that blush again. "What if someone comes?"

"They wont, and even if they do all they'll see is two people sitting on a bike together." he lifted his brow and gave her a heated look. "I'm not going to fuck you on my bike, Sansa."

The blush deepened even more and she shoved his shoulder playfully, but did climb on in front of him with his help. There was still a fair bit of distance between their groins. She wasn't sitting in his lap, only her thighs were draped over his. He still felt odd kissing someone, or initiating it at least. Sansa seemed to know that and took over for him, running her hands up his chest to hold onto his shoulders before tugging him to her. He rested his left hand on her knee, fingers tucked up under the band of her shorts. His right he used to cup the back of her head, fingers digging into the braid she had her hair in.

He never thought he liked kissing, but he was quickly finding out that he'd just never kissed anyone that had enjoyed it like Sansa. It was a firm ego boost, and the way she clung to him, the eagerness with which she opened to him, made him feel like a fucking god. Her small gasps and moans drove him wild, and he got the feeling for the first time in his life that he actually deserved to be desired by someone.

Letting his hand fall from her head, he brought it to the small of her back and pulled her bodily closer to him. She made a noise of surprise in the back of her throat but didn't stop kissing him to stop anything. Instead she threaded one hand into the back of his hair and the small tugs she gave had him growling into her mouth.

"Take me home." she pulled away just far enough to pant against his lips.

"To the hotel?" he nipped at her bottom lip, then drew it into his mouth.

"No." she said around a moan. "To your place. I want to stay all night with you. I want to fall asleep in your arms and wake up that way."

Sandor pulled back a bit, surprised. He hadn't stayed the night with her last night, had never slept with a woman before. Even when he brought her back to his place and she passed out in his bed, he'd slept on the sofa. It was another thing that he hadn't realized he wanted until Sansa had offered it to him.

Kissing her one last time, they resituated themselves on the bike properly with Sansa wearing the helmet again. His hands were shaking a little bit, but he could pretend it was just the vibration from the bikes engine. When they got back to his place, Sandor parked the bike in the small garage behind the bakery with his rarely driven truck. Sansa grabbed his hand as soon as they were both off the bike and he led her out of the garage and up the stairs to his apartment. Stranger greeted them by lifting his head off the arm of the recliner he sat in before going back to sleep. Sandor felt like a nervous teenager as he dropped her hand and locked the front door, unsure of himself and what he was supposed to be doing. When he turned back to her, he was going to ask her if she wanted something to drink but the look on her face told him it wasn't a drink she wanted. This time it was him that pulled her into a kiss, but he was fairly positive that it was Sansa that began tugging him back towards his open bedroom door.

"What do you want, Sansa?" he asked against her mouth when they reached his bed.

"You." she said without hesitation. "I want to know what the next step is."

He could do that, he decided. Because he knew what he wanted.

"I want to see you." he took a step away from her. "All of you."

Sansa swallowed, but nodded eagerly as she kicked off her sandals and began working on the button of her shorts. Sandor watched her as he kicked off his shoes and removed his vest. Once her shorts were off, she pulled her top off without hesitation. Before she could do anything else, Sandor jerked his own shirt off and reached for her, wanting to feel her skin pressed against his own, needing to help her with the rest of it for some reason. He wanted to be a participant, not just a spectator.

Bras, he quickly realized, were not his strong point. His fingers were big and clumsy and the hook and eyes were small and delicate. It took a few tries and a lot of repressed curses, but it finally came undone and Sansa let it fall off her arms and flicked it away. He groaned loudly when her breasts pressed against his chest, his mouth capturing hers hotly before reaching around her hips with an arm and lifting her off her feet. She responded by wrapping those long, lovely legs around his waist and holding on tightly to his shoulders. Holding her tightly to himself, Sandor crawled onto the bed on his knees, bumping her up onto the pillows before lowering the both of them.

"Sandor." she whispered his name when he released her mouth to kiss down the slope of her jaw. "You feel so good, but I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing."

"You're supposed to lay there." he sucked gently on the side of her neck. "Looking like the fucking Maiden made flesh, while I make you feel as good as I can."

"Okay." she breathed when he traced her collarbone with his tongue, her head arching back into the pillows.

He'd never done this before, so openly explored a woman's body, but he could hear her shaky breaths and her little whimpers and he knew exactly what he wanted. He just hoped it would be good for her.

Molding one of her breasts in his hand, he pulled back to watch his thumb run over her nipple, watching the soft pink bud tighten beneath his touch. Then he leaned forward, replacing his thumb with his tongue and tasting her flesh. He groaned at the taste, at the way her breath caught, and wrapped his lips around her, drawing off her deeply while running his tongue in circles around the tight bud in his mouth. Sansa's back arched sharply, her hands coming up to grasp the back of his head.

"Good?" he asked, releasing her with slow suck. Her head nodded frantically, chin dipping down to look at him.

"Yes, Sandor." she panted. "It feels wonderful."

So he did it again, longer this time. He licked and sucked and scraped his teeth across her until the soft pink of her nipple was turning deep red, and then he moved to her other breast. Once it was in the same state, he slowly moved down her stomach, rubbing his beard across her skin and kissing along the ladder of her ribcage. Her belly was soft, giving, and he couldn't stop nuzzling his nose and mouth against it.

But he could smell her now. Her thighs were shifting restlessly under his stomach and her hips would occasionally arch up off the bed. She was turned on and that heady, musky scent of hers drove him insane. With a low growl, he bit at her hip bone, then soothed over it with his tongue as his fingers drifted down and his hand cupped between her thighs. She gasped and he did too, at the feel of the heat coming off of her.

"I want to taste you." he rasped into her lower belly, nosing at the waistband of her panties. "Let me eat at you until you come. Can I?"

"Oh gods." she whispered, voice trembling before she lifted her head a little to look down at him. "Yes, please."

This was another thing he'd never done, but his inexperience wasn’t going to stop him. Not when he had her permission and his mouth was practically watering at the idea of tasting her. He ducked his head down, moving his hand away from between her thighs and pressed his lips against the damp spot on her panties. He breathed out deeply, feeling the cotton heat up, and then pressed his tongue against the fabric. He couldn't really taste her, not yet, but Sansa sucked in a breath and her hips pressed down into his mouth.

Sitting up on his knees, he quickly removed her underwear and tossed them off the bed. Dropping back to his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows, he arranged her legs over his shoulders so that her hips lifted off the bed. Cupping her ass in his hands, he leaned forward and pressed his tongue between her folds.

"Oh, Sandor." she moaned, one hand grasping at the sheets beneath her and the other balling into a fist on her lower belly. The taste was like nothing he'd ever tasted; hot and salty and almost bitter without being unpleasant. For a while he just licked at her, getting accustomed to the feel and taste of her, searching around to see where she liked his attention best. Letting go of her ass with one hand, he used those fingers to spread her folds, giving his tongue better access. He felt the small bump of her clit, where it was hotter and harder than the rest of her. Sansa gasped loudly, the hand at her stomach shooting up to grab the back of his head. He stayed there, running his tongue over her, circling her, rubbing the flat of his tongue across her, before sucking her flesh into his mouth. 

"Yes." she cried, hips starting to move restlessly against his mouth, rolling herself more firmly into him. Sandor growled at the feel of it; hot, aching need causing his own body to throb. He tried to suppress it, shoving his hips into the mattress to get some sort of pressure. 

"More, oh please, Sandor, don't stop." she begged, nearly sobbing. The fist in his hair was starting to hurt, but all it did was make him want her more. So he didn't stop. He kept up what he was doing, shifting the hand on her ass so that his middle finger could curl around to her opening. He barely pressed in to the second knuckle when her entire body seized up. She sucked in a breath, then held it. She was nearly vibrating and then he felt it. Her inner muscles tightened around his finger, her clit pulsing under his tongue. She let out her breath on a choked sob, her body rolling with the sensations until she went limp. Pulling back a little, he removed his finger and licked one last time at her opening before sitting up on his knees between her thighs. 

Sansa blinked a few times up at him, then grinned. Her grin quickly turned into a huge smile and she giggled softly. "That was...wow. Thank you." 

"Hm." he leaned down and kissed her belly, then wiped his bread and mustache off on the sheets beside her. "You're welcome." 

"Come here." she whispered, still smiling, arms lifting up towards him. He went to her, laying down on the pillow next to her and letting her wrap her body around his. He was still aching, the throb in his cock matching the rapid beat of his heart. 

"Sansa." he kissed the crown of her head. "Do you want to do that for me?" he asked cautiously and forced himself to meet her eyes when she looked up at him. "You don't have to. I can go take a shower and deal with it myself. I just thought you might want to." 

She was nodding before he'd finished the sentence, sitting up so she was on her knees next to his hip. "Yes, I want to." she put her hands on the button of his jeans, her cheeks flushed brightly and hair wild. "You'll tell me what to do?" she asked, pulling the zipper down. 

"Again, not rocket science." he chuckled, then swallowed thickly as she started tugging his jeans and boxers down. He lifted his hips and helped her to kick both off his feet. 

"Still." she shifted so she was between his thighs, one hand tentatively wrapping around his erection. "I want to do it right."

Sandor nodded. "Do what you want. Everything you could possibly do is going to feel good. Just don't bite me."

Sansa laughed at that, still seeming unsure of herself.

"Start slow." he instructed. "Touch it, rub it, kiss it. Put your lips on me and lick me. I promise, little bird, it's going to feel good."

She did everything he said. Like the night before, she stroked him until his head almost exploded. Then she leaned down and kissed the tip of his head, then down along the shaft. She reversed the journey with her tongue and Sandor had to tighten every single on of his muscles so he didn't come right then. When she finally wrapped her lips around the head of him and traced his foreskin with the tip of her tongue, it didn't matter what he did. He couldn't stop it. He choked out a warning, but Sansa stayed over him, working up and down just along the head of him as he came, jerking in her grasp and filling her mouth.

"Shit." he breathed when she finally pulled away, watching her as she swallowed and wiped at her lips. "You didn't have to do that. You could have spit it out."

"Where?" she lifted a brow, then smiled. "Besides, proper ladies don't spit."

"Oh, but they swallow a mouth full of come?" he teased and she gave him a reproachful look before shaking her head.

"You're terrible." she crawled up to lay down next to him, and no matter how terrible she thought he was, she still curled herself tightly into the crook of his shoulder.

"I am." he agreed, tipping his head to the side to kiss her forehead.

"I need to brush my teeth." she whispered in a tired voice and Sandor hummed in agreement. He probably should do that too, but his body was just a little too sated to want to do much of anything.

"Later." he sighed. "And then I'll fix us some dinner."

"Sounds lovely." she sighed into his neck.

Eventually they did get up and brush their teeth. Sandor put his boxers back on and Sansa picked up the shirt he'd been wearing and put it on. Together they made omelets and toast that they ate on the sofa. Sansa tried valiantly to win over Stranger by offering him the crust of her bread. The dog just sniffed at it before snorting and returning to his recliner to ignore them. 

"That's alright." she told Stranger sweetly. "I'll get you to love me. I promise you that." 

Sandor didn't doubt her. There was something about Sansa that made it easy to fall for her. Something he wasn't even in danger of anymore. 

It had already happened.


	11. Chapter 11

When Sansa woke up that morning, she found herself smiling before she even opened her eyes. She was laying on her side, one arm tucked up under her head and the other thrown over Sandor's waist. Her top thigh was nestled between Sandor's with his heavy one tossed over her hips. His arm was also around her and he seemed to be holding onto her for dear life. Although she was wearing his shirt and panties, Sandor was just wearing his boxers. Her face was pressed up against the top part of his chest, the hairs there tickling her nose a little, and his chin was pressed into the top of her head. It was comfortable, and warm, but it was the intimacy of simply waking up with someone else that she enjoyed the most. That it was Sandor, someone who she was quickly and helplessly falling for, made it all the better. 

Shifting a little away from him so she could see him properly, she took the opportunity to really look at him. His face was fully relaxed, no lingering lines of hardness or anger. He looked younger somehow. His lips were parted slightly and Sansa resisted the urge to lift a finger and touch them. They were so full and soft looking, even despite the twisted corner of scars. She wondered how that had happened, why his brother would have done something so cruel. How could someone do that to their own sibling? He was sensitive about them, that much she knew. They were quite terrible, even in there healed state. They transformed what might have otherwise been a handsome face into something twisted and harsh looking. 

Without thinking too much about it, Sansa lifted her hand and touched the twisted skin next to his eye. It felt odd, not like normal skin. It was somehow slicker, but with the raised bumps and ridges it was also rough. She let her finger trail up to where his eyebrow should have been, then traced along the ruin of his hair line, down to his mangled ear. The scars on this side of his face did nothing to diminish the sharp angle of his jaw, although it did prevent his beard from growing there. His chin was left untouched, an uneven line of burn scars meeting perfect skin that marred the left side of his face. It hurt her heart thinking of the pain it must have caused him. It likely changed the course of his life, took away whatever type of man he might have been, and that broke her heart, but she was just selfish enough not to regret that because this man that he was she simply adored. 

Drawing her fingers across his cheek, she touched the corner of his mouth. She was fixing to slide her pointer finger across the pillow of his bottom lip when his head suddenly jerked back. Her eyes flew up to find his blinking open, confusion and curiosity in his sleep heavy eyes. 

"What're you doing?" he asked, removing his arm from around her to scrub at his scars. 

"Just looking." she almost whispered. 

He dropped his arm back down, this time with his hand cupping the dip of her waist. "You were doing more than looking." 

She couldn't tell if he was angry about that, but her mind was still turning over all the possibilities of what happened and she simply wanted to know. 

"I was just curious." she started, eyes skimming over the scars once more. “You said it was your brother, but why? How?”

"You don't want to know." he said in a hard voice. "Believe me, girl. You don't." 

"But I do." she peeked back up at him. "I want to know you, Sandor. Everything about you." 

For one brief second he looked confused. That confusion quickly gave way to an almost hurt look before he carefully pulled his mask of emotionless into place. 

"I'm not part of some bloody sideshow." he rolled over so he was sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to her. "I won't appease you morbid curiosity. Believe that." 

"I hadn't meant..." she paused, sitting up in bed, wondering what to say. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel that way." 

He cast a look at her over his shoulder before looking back in front of him. He was quiet for a moment, then he inhaled deeply and let it out before nodding. "Aye, I know. Let's get some food. I'm starved." 

Seeing that he wanted to drop the subject, Sansa didn't press anymore. Instead she got up and showered while Sandor fixed a simple breakfast of oatmeal with bananas, which Sandor added vanilla protein powder to his own. After that Sandor left to take Stranger on his run and Sansa stayed at his apartment. While he was gone she made the bed and then went to his little art corner and started looking through some of his drawings and paintings. He was skilled, that much was obvious. It was also obvious that he really enjoyed doing it as well. She was sitting on the floor in front of the glass doors of his balcony, going through his sketch books, when he came back in. 

Sansa watched as he wiped sweat from his forehead before leaning down to remove the leash from Stranger's collar. Standing straight, she caught how his grey shirt was wet with even more sweat. It should have been gross, but instead she felt her lower belly give a little leap of excitement. He scanned the living area, obviously looking for her, and a frown deepened the lines of his face when he didn't see her sitting on the floor. 

"Hey." she drew his attention to where she was and his single brow shot up as he looked from her to the sketch books in front of her. 

"What're you doing?" 

"Just looking at your drawings." she glanced down at the open book before her. There was a drawing of a motorcycle on it. "I hope that's okay. They're all lovely." 

"It's fine." he shrugged, then made his way into his bedroom. Sansa waited a beat, then stood and picked up all the books and put them back into their place before following him since he didn't close the door. She found him on the floor next to the weight bench, doing sit ups. With a blush, she sat at the foot of the bed with her legs crisscrossed and watched in silence. After he did too many for her to count, he shifted around onto his knees and gave her a heated look. 

"Liking the show?" he taunted and Sansa blushed, but smiled. 

"It is quite fascinating." she teased, propping her chin on her palm as she continued watching. Sandor huffed a laugh, and then went into pushups. He was wearing a shirt, but the sleeves were cut off and the sides were split enough that she could see the play of muscles along his sides as well as his arms and shoulders. 

Sansa had never been one for exersize or fitness. She always felt too gross when she sweat and sports were never her thing. She stayed healthy by eating (mostly) right and doing at home yoga videos. There was nothing overly toned on her. Her belly was flat, yes, but it was soft, and so were her thighs. Her hips were a little too wide, thanks to her mothers side of the family, and Theon had once called her curvaceous. It had never bothered her before. She was actually quite happy with her body. But watching Sandor now, putting so much effort and time into his physique made her wonder if he preferred a woman who shared in those things. Someone like Arya who thrived on being active or Brienne who was nearly as fit as him. 

Once he finished his sets of pushups, he got to his feet and sat on the weight bench. 

"Can I ask you something?" she asked as he leaned back and started lifting the leg bar thing with enough weights on it to probably equal two of her. 

"Go ahead." he said with barely a grunt as he worked. 

"Am I your type?" 

Her question had him pausing in his lifts as he looked at her in confusion. "What?" 

"Your type." she repeated. "You know, like the type of woman you normally are attracted to." 

Moving his legs so they weren't under the bar anymore, he sat up and put his elbows on his knees. "Are you asking if I'm attracted to you?" he asked with a bit of a laugh. 

"No." she shook her head. "Well, maybe. I guess I'm asking if you would prefer it if I were more like you." 

"Like me?" he repeated in an almost disgusted voice. "What in the hells is that supposed to mean?" 

"Fit, or into fitness with tattoos. A...a bad girl, you know?" 

A few seconds went by where Sandor just stared at her, then he snorted, which was followed by him breaking out into a huge belly laugh, head thrown back and all. She hated that he was laughing at her, but she really did enjoy the sound of his laughter. 

"Please don't laugh at me." she asked once he'd quieted down some. "It's a fair question." 

"No." he chuckled again. "I don't have a  _type_ of woman. I like your body just fine the way it is, soft and without tattoos. Besides, you couldn't be a bad girl even if you tried. You're too damn sweet." 

"You say that like it's a bad thing." 

"It's not." he stood up from the bench and came over to where she was sitting. "Because with you, it's real. You're not faking it to get something or to put on a front. You're just a genuinely sweet person." he put a knee on the mattress next to her and used his body to crowd in on her until she was laying on her back and he was hovering over her. "A proper little lady, you." he teased before bending down and capturing her lips. Sansa lifted her hands, one cupping the back of his sweaty neck and the other threading into his damp hair. He smelled salty and hot and his deodorant added just enough spice and musk to him that she was starting to get dizzy. Using the hand in his hair, she tugged so he released her and she smiled up at him.

"Proper ladies don't let sweaty men climb all over them and kiss them like that."

"Then I've been a bad influence on you." he grinned, then bent to kiss her again. Sansa hummed into his mouth, opening for him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"You have." she agreed in a breathless voice when he slid his lips to her jawline. "Which is why I want you to do something for me."

"What's that?" he asked around nipping at her earlobe.

"I want you to give me a tattoo." she breathed out unsteadily. Sandor jerked his head back so he was looking at her face again.

"Why?" he narrowed his eyes. "Because you want to be more my type?"

"No." she giggled. "Because I want one. I have for a while, and I want you to do it. I've had such a lovely time on this trip, and I want something to commemorate it."

"Alright." he said slowly. "What do you want? And where? You only have today and tomorrow afternoon here before you leave so it can't be something too big or detailed or I wont have time."

"Nothing very big. I just want a small bird right here." she removed a hand from his shoulder and touched her ribs on her side, just below her breast. "I really like the watercolor looking paintings you've done. So something like that." 

Sansa watched Sandor's throat work as he swallowed, eyes trained to the spot she was still touching. He blinked once, then twice, before looking back at her. 

"Alright." he nodded, moving off of her. "Let me take a shower. Go into the living room and look at my stuff some more. Make sure you don't change your mind." 

Sansa smiled, quickly jumping off the bed and dropping a kiss to Sandor's cheek before going into the living room. She knew she wouldn't change her mind so she spent the time he was showering going through his pictures trying to decide what the perfect color should be. By the time Sandor came out again she had it narrowed down between an icy shade of blue or a pretty shade of red. She helped him pull all of his tattoo supplies and equipment out of a closet, which also had a folded up table for her to lay down on. Once they had it all set up Sandor helped her onto the table.

"You're going to have to take the shirt off." he told her without looking at her, setting up the ink and gun, black gloves already on his hands. Sansa nodded, sitting up to take it off before laying back down. She didn't have a bra on, but used the arm under her to cover her breasts while she lifted her other arm up and out of the way like Sandor instructed. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes while he used a razor blade to shave the skin and then clean it.

"You ready?" he asked once he was finished. "It's going to hurt, I won't lie."

"It's fine." she gave a weak smile. "I'm ready."

He was right, it did hurt. She hissed in a breath and winced and occasionally let out a whimper, but every time he asked if she needed to stop for a break, she shook her head no. It was best to get it done all at once, she thought. If he stopped she might not want him to start again. Eventually, though, the pain because a dull sort of burn and her endorphins kicked in. She lay perfectly still, coaching herself with breathing in her nose and out her mouth. She wasn't sure how long it took, not nearly as long as she'd feared, but after some time Sandor clicked the gun off and the absence of the buzzing rang in her eyes. He used a towel to wipe at her side and then sat everything off to the side.

"Done." he told her, snapping his gloves off. "You alright?"

"Fine." she blinked her eyes open with a smile. "Can I see?"

He helped her off the table and she was only mildly embarrassed that her breasts were no longer covered by her arm. He wasn't leering or gawking as he led her into his bedroom where there was a full length mirror on the back of his closet so she could look.

"Oh, Sandor." she almost teared up. "It's so beautiful." she stepped closer to look better, shifting a little to get the best angle.

"It was a simple enough design." he shrugged. "I didn't even need a stencil."

"Seriously, Sandor." she looked at his reflection above hers. "You have to open a shop. You'd be so good at it. And you love it."

"Like I said, there's too many shops in this city. Established shops." he shook his head. "A new shop wouldn't stand a chance."

Sansa sighed, knowing he was right and hating that for him. There were other places that he could open a shop, though. Places that didn't have so much competition. Heck, even in Winterfell there wasn't a shop. The closest one was in White Harbor. But this was his home. Sansa understood that. She could never live anywhere other than the North. Her family, her brothers, Arya, what few friends she had. She could never be so far from them. Perhaps Sandor felt the same way about this place. Maybe he could never live anywhere other than here. Maybe this was his home.

The thought hurt, knowing that the rest of today and what little time tomorrow they had before her flight would be it. She couldn't see a way around it. She wanted to keep in touch with him, would still text and call and email and maybe even video chat. But how long could they keep going like that? How long before it fizzled out and it became too hard and too frustrating to keep up a long distance relationship?

Sniffing back tears, Sansa looked at her tattoo again. She would just have to make the best of what little time they had left together. If her heart was going to be broken regardless, she wanted to give it her all before then.    
 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long. Things have been...well, I haven't felt like writing lately. This may be short, but it's getting the story to where it needs to be for the next chapter. And it's getting me back into the swing of things.
> 
> Thank you to everyone that's been following and being so patient. I'll try not to make you wait so long for the next chapter.

Today was her last day. Tomorrow morning, bright and early, she would head to the airport and back to the North to resume her life. Sandor would still be here, still in his small apartment with his moody dog and his few friends and his no job and no prospects and no Sansa. He was trying not to dwell on it and just live in the moment and enjoy the time he did have with her, he really was, but he was pretty sure he was failing at it. He kept finding himself just staring at her as she talked, not really hearing what she was saying, just concentrating on the angle of her jaw and the fullness of her lips. He liked the way her entire face was animated when she spoke, and how he knew exactly what she was feeling just by looking at those big blue eyes of hers. The little bird was an open book, and it was clear to see she was trying awfully hard to put on a happy front, but he could tell she was just as sad as he was. 

"Sandor." she sighed his name and he pulled himself out of pitiful thoughts and focused on her again. She was no longer smiling, no longer trying to keep up the mask. Her lips were pouting just a tiny bit, her eyes clouded over as she looked at him. 

He gave her a half smile, not really trying to make it look convincing, and reached across the little metal table and took one of her hands in his. "Sansa." 

She finally smiled a real smile, albeit a sad one and looked off to the side. They were at a restaurant, sitting on the elevated deck that overlooked the coastline. The sun brought out all the colors in her hair, catching the golden hues inside the auburn and making them shine. She had just a tinge of pink along her cheeks and nose from the sun and probably a few more freckles, but she was so damn beautiful he felt like he was looking at some master painters rendention of the Maiden. She looked back towards him and this time her eyes were shimmering just a bit. It squeezed something inside of his chest.

"What do you want to do?" she asked him.

"We can finish lunch here, and then we can go to the shops on the Street of Silk like you wanted."

"No." she shook her head and dropped her eyes to their hands. "I meant, what do you want to do after I leave. Do you want to stay in contact, try and...try and make things work from a distance?"

Sandor took a deep breath and pulled his hand away from hers so he could run both hands over his face. Then he took a deep drink of his beer. "We could, yeah." he nodded. "But then what? How long do you think something like that could work?"

"I don't know." she whispered softly, eyes coming back up to his filled with unshed tears. "All I know is that I'm going to miss you _so_ much and I don't want to never see you again."

There was an uncomfortable lump in his throat, anger rising at the futileness of it all. He stood up abruptly, digging in his back pocket for his wallet. Grabbing a few bills, he tossed them down on the table and then reached for Sansa's hand. The fact that she didn't even hesitate for a single second just further added to the storm of emotions that were going through him at the moment. 

"Where are we going?" Sansa asked once they got to the sidewalk and switched from holding his hand to wrapping her arm through his like there were some Lord and Lady from olden times. 

"Street of Silk." he said, leading the way to the busy street full of shops and street vendors selling their goods. He was determined that their day wasn't going to be all sob and sorry. They were going to have fun and make some memories to help when they were no longer together to make anymore. 

He didn't know how long they shopped. A ridiculous amount of time. Sansa delighted him by trying on some Dornish silk dresses that were far more revealing than what she normally wore. She bought souvenirs for her brothers and sister and even her cousin. He talked her into taking home some of the Pentoshi wine she'd like so much at one of their dinners together. While she was searching for a postcard to send to her aunt and uncle in Riverrun, Sandor ducked out and bought her something that he would give to her tomorrow morning when he dropped her off at the airport. 

Once he was laden down with bags and she also had a few, they made their was back to Sandor's apartment to drop it all off since she'd checked out of the resort this morning and brought her things over to his place. After that he took her on a long ride around the outskirts of the city, on the less busy roads with fewer traffic. They rode until dark and picked up Tyroshi take out on their way back. Sansa talked him into eating in the living room, both of them sitting on the floor and using the coffee table to eat off of. Sansa finally got Stranger to warm up to her by offering him pieces of her food and gentle ear scratches. The dog was currently laying on the floor next to her, his big head resting on her thigh while he slept. 

"I knew I'd get him to love me." she said triumphantly, beaming a smile at him and Sandor had to swallow hard against the desire to tell her that she'd also gotten him to love her as well. What good would it do, though? It would just make it harder for her to leave in the morning, and make it hurt more when they were an entire continent away from each other. 

"He's a sap for a pretty lady." he said instead, rising up to his knees to gather up their trash. 

"Oh, yeah?" she giggled. "Lots of pretty ladies around him, then?" 

Sandor snorted. "No. Marg, maybe, but he hates her." with arms full he stood and Sansa did as well, picking up what he hadn't gotten. "The lady that runs the bakery is probably the only other one that's endeared herself to him." he tossed the things in the trash bin before turning to watch her put the left overs in his fridge. 

"Is she pretty?" Sansa asked sweetly, tossing him a smile as she closed the fridge. 

"Hardly." he chuckled. "Probably around 80, covered in wrinkles with a wart right on the end of her nose. She dyes her hair purple and wears moo moos. But she always tosses Stranger the day old bagels and the dog absolutely loves them." 

Sansa laughed, shifting closer to him so she could wrap her arms around his waist. Sandor responded by draping his arms over her shoulders and burying on hand in her hair so he could rub the silky strands between his fingers. 

"I suppose I can share." she decided. "I do understand the allure of baked goods." 

"Mm." Sandor mumbled, leaning down to skim his nose along her hairline. There was a hint of his body wash lingering on her skin, but it was mostly overpowered by the subtle clean lemon scent of her hair. 

"I think I'd like to go to bed now." she whispered, tipping her head up so she was looking up into his eyes. Sandor swallowed, desire curling low in his belly while his head told him to argue. 

"Little Bird." he sighed, taking some of her hair and wrapping it around his finger. "We don't have to."

"What do you mean?" she pulled back a little so Sandor dropped his arms to rest his hands on her waist. 

"I mean, you're leaving." he shrugged, falling back on his bluntness to get him by. "Your first time should be with someone who can offer you more than a one night stand." 

"A one night stand?" she repeated, stepping back again so his hands fell from her completely. "That's all it would be for you?" 

"That's not what I said." he nearly growled. 

"Then what did you mean?" 

"Just what I said." he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. "We've only got one night left. Why would you want to give me that when that's all it could ever be?" 

"All it could ever be?" she repeated once again, a hurt look filling her eyes. 

"What else could it be?" he demanded, now growing angry at her and himself. "You live in the North. What? You think we'd text and chat and talk? Sure. Until someone tangible is there, some white fucking knight to sweep you off your pretty little feet. You'll forget all about the ugly old dog that deceived you. I'm not going to add on to that by being the prick that took your virginity." 

"You can't take it." she argued. "It's mine to give. I was going to give it freely. You weren't going to take anything."

"One more thing for you to regret." he turned away from her, snatching a beer from the fridge. 

"Stop it." she grabbed the beer from him and held it behind her back, meeting his glare defiantly. "I get it, okay? You're scared. So am I. The future is uncertain. I have no idea how it's going to play out. But I want to try, Sandor. I want to love you tonight and I want to try to make something of this once I leave, okay?" 

Suddenly his anger deserted him, leaving him feeling every ounce of his fear acutely. His fear and hurt at losing her. He dropped his chin to his chest, breathing raggedly. 

"Sandor." she said his name softly, a click of the glass of the beer bottle on the tile counter. Then her hands were cupping each side of his face, her body crowding in so she could meet his eyes. "Take me to bed. Love me tonight. If that's all it's going to be, if this is all we have, love me enough tonight to last. Please." 

"Okay." he breathed, reaching up to take hold of her wrists. "If you're sure." 

She smiled, so bright and stunning he felt his heart skip. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life." 

 


	13. Chapter 13

Sansa wasn't entirely sure at the moment what the exact events were that brought them to here, but she quickly decided it didn't matter. Sandor's hands felt far too good on her bare skin to really worry about the details of before. All that mattered was now. 

Now consisted of Sansa standing completely naked at the foot of Sandor's bed. The door was closed to keep Stranger out, but the light was still on, the ceiling fan whirring enough to mix in with her rapid heartbeat. Sandor sat on the edge of the bed wearing only his briefs, his hands slowly and gently mapping out all the dips and hollows of her body while his mouth was leaving hot, wet trails of kisses and sucks along her throat and collarbones before moving down to her breasts. Sansa sucked in a sharp breath, back arching into his mouth. She grasped the back of his head to steady herself and to ensure he kept doing that. 

She was aching everywhere. Her blood was pounding hot beneath her skin, her nerves all on edge and needy. Her center throbbed, already drenched with desire for more when finally his fingers trailed up from her knee and met the heat of her. 

"Oh." she gasped, because everything was so sensitive and swollen that even the brush of his fingertips felt amazing. 

"Shit." he said under his breath, leaving her nipple so that he could tilt his head up to look at her. His eyes were heavy, pupils blown wide, and mouth parted just slightly. Another pulse of desire raced through her because in that moment he was so achingly sexy that she couldn't stand it. Moving her hand from cupping the back of his head, she grasped the sides of his face and dove in for a kiss. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, but it was intense, just like the emotions raging through her. 

"Damn, Little Bird." he cursed when she broke the kiss to press her forehead to his, still holding his face. "You're on fire here, girl." 

Sansa nodded. She felt on fire. His fingers swirled around, almost playing, but he would occasionally brush against her clit and cause her to jerk against him. Her hips were moving with him, wanting to chase down his fingers so they would just stay there and bring her off so she would maybe stop aching so much. 

"Please, Sandor." she breathed against his lips. 

"Please what?" he questioned and from any other man it might have been a taunt, a tease. But Sandor said it earnestly. He wanted to know, wanted to give her exactly what she wanted. 

Sansa flushed even hotter, squeezed her eyes shut and licked her lips a few times. "Please make me come." she whispered, almost horrified that she'd actually said that, but Sandor groaned, something close to an actual growl, and surged forward to he could kiss her just as sloppy and hot as she'd kissed him moments ago. But then he was pulling away, both his lips and his hand, and Sansa whined at the loss of both, confused and ready to beg some more if need be. 

"Come here." Sandor stood up from the bed, making her step back, and grabbed her wrist. He moved to the head of the bed and climbed on, shoving pillows out of his way so he could sit up against the wall. Sansa went to join him, but Sandor stopped her with a shake of his head. "Turn around. Put your back against my chest." 

Nodding, ready to do anything he asked so long as she got his fingers back on her, Sansa crawled between his spread legs and sat with her back against him. He made some sort of deep humming of approval and took hold of her knees, moving them outwards so they hooked over his legs and effectively spread her. 

Sansa quickly caught on to why he wanted her like this. In this position he could touch all of her. Sansa let her head fall back against his shoulder while his hands ran over her arms and chest, catching her breasts and molding his hands around them, squeezing and weighing them before letting his fingers slip over her nipples. Sansa moaned, rolling her hips in time with his fingers as they pinched and tugged and rolled. She thought maybe, just maybe, she was going to come just from that but before she could his hands were moving down, dragging over her ribs and belly, his fingernails raking her skin as he drew them back up to her breasts. He did that several times before moving on to her thighs and doing the same. Unable to stop herself, Sansa lifted her head so she could watch his hands, fascinated by the contrast between his dark tattooed skin and her pale unblemished complexion. His mouth latched onto the side of her throat and when she went to drop her head back to his shoulder again, her eyes caught on movement off the foot of the bed.

Her breath caught and a fresh wave of arousal washed through her. There, on the back of the bathroom door was a full length mirror. If the door was fully closed it would be facing the weight bench, but with it partially pushed open it was directed towards the bed. And them. Sansa took a moment to look at herself, hair wild and face flushed. Those eyes didn't even seem to be her own, with how dark and heavy they were. Her skin was flushed with ribbons of red marks all down her torso and legs from Sandor's fingers. Nothing that would be there later, they would fade, but for now they left her body decorated with his want for her. As she watched the mirror one of Sandor's hands left her thigh and cupped her center, covering her completely. The image she saw was so possessive, yet so tender it burned her eyes. When he moved his hand and pressed his finger inside of her, Sansa couldn't watch anymore.

"That good?" he rasped into her ear and Sansa nodded because, yes it was good. So good. But she wanted more, needed him to touch her clit while his fingers were inside of her.

"More, here." she whispered, voice shaking. She grasped his free hand and brought it to her center. Using her fingers, she guided his to her swollen bundle and started rubbing it fingers over it, side to side just like she enjoyed it best. When he started doing it on his own, Sansa let her hands fall back to his thighs, grasping his hot skin and using them for leverage as she started moving her hips with his hands. Then he pressed another finger inside of her and curled them with each thrust and everything broke. Sansa squeezed her eyes shut while she rode out the pleasure, turning her head to bury her face into his neck and she cried out. She thought she heard his breath catch in his throat, but it was hard to really think with so much pleasure numbing her out.

Then it became too much and Sansa grabbed his wrist, stopping his movements that were now causing to her jerk.

"Done?" he asked, pulling his fingers from her and moving his hands to her hips.

"Lovely." she breathed and Sandor chuckled. For a moment they stayed like that, just resting while her breathing went back to normal. Then Sandor wrapped his arm around her waist and with a surge forward, moved her to her back with her head at the foot of the bed and him hovering over her. He kissed her gently to silence her surprised giggles and then slowly moved down her chest, gently sucking her breasts and then dropping kisses down the center of her stomach. Sansa sighed happily and when his hand cupped the underside of her thigh and started to lift her leg onto his shoulder, her head shot up off the bed.

"What are you doing?" she asked, watching as he raked his teeth over the jut of her hipbone.

"You're a smart girl, Sansa Stark." he teased, dark eyes flicking up to meet hers. "What's it look like I'm doing?" he made sure to hover his mouth right over her mound for the last part, hot breath stirring the hair there and making her all too aware of just how wet she still was.

"I've already, you know. You don't have to."

"Good to know." he cocked his brow at her. "But I want you to come again. I want you as wet and soft and relaxed as I can possibly get you before I fuck you."

"Sandor." she scolded him with a frown, not liking that word to describe what they were doing. Sandor chuckled, nuzzling his cheek into her thigh. Then he caught her eyes again and his face softened.

"Sorry. What I meant was I want you as ready as possible before I love you."

Her heart skipped, breath catching in her throat. She swallowed a few times, and nodded. Sandor smiled, an actual smile instead of a smirk or a grin, and then he went back to making good on getting her as ready as possible.

By the time he was done, Sansa was certain she couldn't be more ready. She was absolutely dripping now, the sheets beneath her wet and her thighs slicked with it as well. Her muscles were all loose and relaxed and she'd never felt so soft before. Apparently three consecutive orgasms were good for that.

"I don't think I can be more ready, Sandor." she smiled at him when he crawled back over her. He smirked at that, but there was such a burning want in his expression that Sansa nodded at him. "Please, Sandor." she cupped his cheek. "I'm so ready for you."

He bit his bottom lip hard, but nodded and backed off the bed. Sansa lifted onto her elbows to watch him open his nightstand. He pulled out a roll of condoms from inside and ripped one off before throwing the others onto the table. After shoving his underwear off, Sansa gasped. She'd seen him hard before, but right now he looked almost in pain. So flushed and hard that it seemed to shiver with the time of his pulse.

"You alright?" he asked around the wrapper between his teeth. Sansa flicked her eyes up to his and smiled as she watched him rip it open.

"Fine." she nodded. "Are you?"

Sandor laughed at that, but Sansa noticed how his hands were shaking a little as he rolled the condom on. "I will be." he assured her, then crawled back over her. His face grew serious once more and he cupped his fingers under her chin.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked. "You cant take it back once it's finished. After this you won't ever have a first time to give someone else."

"I don't want to give it to someone else." she promised. "I want you to have it. I want it to be with you."

He swallowed, then nodded. He helped her arrange her legs over his hips and he shifted higher so that he could align properly with her. He was so much taller than her his face was no longer above hers, but Sansa didn't mind. Instead she pressed her lips to his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his waist. He curled one arm around her head and with the other hand he guided himself to her opening. With her lips still pressed to his skin, Sansa held her breath as he slowly but steadily pressed forward. She was so wet and ready that he found no resistance. There was no pain, no sharp sting of loss of hymen. There was only a slight burn of stretched muscles and a feeling of fullness.

Sansa liked the feeling.

Sandor curled his back so he could look down at her. His face was flushed and he was breathing heavily. "Enough?"

It took Sansa a moment to realize he wasn't entirely inside of her and he was asking her if that was enough. He wouldn't force all of him inside of her if it meant her discomfort.

"Keep going." she whispered, raising her knees higher to bracket his hips. That action alone caused him to go deeper. His eyes shut on a grunt, but then he opened them again to watch her face as he pushed in the rest of the way. When his pelvis pressed up against hers, Sansa tilted her head up, trying to catch her breath.

"Good?" he panted tightly and Sansa nodded a bit frantically.

"Yes." she shifted her hips and gasped. "Good. You're so good."

"Fuck." he whispered, but wrapped his free arm around her leg and started moving.

It was lovely and wonderful. It all felt too real and too new for her to be able to reach completion again, but that didn't matter. What mattered was feeling Sandor inside of her, knowing that he was the first. What mattered was his body over hers and the heat of his skin. The way his muscles bunched and flexed and the look of utter awe and bliss on his ravaged face. What mattered was him and her and this moment and the pleasure she was giving him and the happiness he was giving her in return.

"I can't." he panted, his body straining against hers. "Shit, I'm not gonna last much longer."

"Good." she said just as breathlessly. "I want you to go. Please don't hold back."

His eyes shot open and he looked down at her. She nodded at him, raking her fingers up the length of his back. He shivered at the feeling, bowing his body so that he could press his forehead against hers. The arm still curled over her head tightened, his hair falling all around them making it seem like they were in some sort of bubble together. His big body started shaking and his thrusts grew faster and deeper. Then he shoved in as deep as he could go, causing Sansa to gasp, and he groaned a broken sort of noise that Sansa was positive she would never forget. He pressed his hips against hers a few more times and then his body went weak. He caught himself on his elbows, then shifted so that he fell to his side next to her. Sansa immediately curled up against him and he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

"Thank you." she whispered into his sweaty skin.

Sandor grunted. "Thank you." he repeated and Sansa giggled, so happy and tired and heart full. She pulled back enough to look at him and she smiled at the softness she found there. He didn't smile back, but he did lift a hand and smooth her damp hair away from her forehead.

"I love you, Sandor Clegane." she told him, knowing that she had to say it. Knowing that it was true and she wanted him to know. Needed him to know. The sheer amount of surprise and happiness she found in his eyes was enough for her. And when he kissed her, she could feel just how much the emotion was returned. At the moment it didn't matter if he said it back or not.  


	14. Chapter 14

The ride to the airport was...tense. Sansa didn't know what to say that she hadn't already. Sandor didn't seem inclined to say anything at all. He walked with her as far as security would allow and when they paused, he seemed more interested in staring at his beat up boots than her. 

"I'm so glad I came." Sansa said to break the silence. "Thank you for showing me such a lovely time." 

"Yeah." he half grunted the word, finally looking up at her. "It was good." 

"Well." she cleared her throat, looking back the security checkpoint. "I suppose I should get going. You have my number, of course. And now I have your real number." she looked up at him, willing her eyes not to water too much. "Don't be a stranger." 

"Right." he scratched at his chin. Sansa hesitated, wanting to say more or hear more or just hold him close. 

She chose the latter. 

Stepping into him, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her face into his chest. A beat went by, and then his arms wrapped around her too. She didn't know how long they stayed like that, just holding each other tightly, but eventually she pulled back and looked up at him, wiping a stray tear away as she smiled. Too choked up to say anything, she gave a little nod and then turned around to head towards the security checkpoint. 

"Wait." Sandor snagged her wrist and pulled her back to him. Before she was fully turned around, his mouth was on hers, his hands holding her tight enough so that she didn't tip over from the force of it. It was desperation and want and tenderness and goodbye all rolled up into one. It stole her breath and made her chest ache. 

"Here." he mumbled, pulling away at last and taking her hand. He shoved something into it, then brought her hand up to his lips and pressed one last kiss, his grey eyes flicking up to meet hers. She couldn't pretend the glassiness she saw mirrored in his eyes were anything else other than tears. "Bye, Little Bird." 

With that, he turned and left, his strides long and purposeful, almost like he was hurrying to get away. Or fighting from turning back around. 

Sniffing back more tears, Sansa looked down at the little grey velvet pouch in her hand. Loosening the drawstring, she dumped the contents out into her hand.

It was a thin rose gold chain with a delicate rose gold heart shaped locket hanging from it, filigree and flowers hammered into it. Using her thumb nail, she opened the locket to find Sandor hand painted each side of the locket. One side was painted a soft yellow, a perfect black S in gothic script over it. On the other side it was painted a soft purple and a grey S was painted over it in elegant script. It didn't matter to her that there wasn't pictures like normal. This was far more meaningful to her. 

Snapping the locket shut, she looked back towards the front lobby, but Sandor was gone. With shaky fingers she managed to get the clasp of the necklace undone and then redone behind her neck. Touching it gently with her fingertip, she straightened up and headed towards security. She couldn't help but feel like she was leaving something very important behind.

-

Lifting the last plate out of the dishwasher, Sansa kicked it shut and went on tiptoe to put it up in the cabinet. 

"Who was the last ruler of the Seven Kingdoms?" Rickon asked from the kitchen table where he was doing his homework.

"King Tommen was king when the war was ending." Bran told him.

"Yes, but there was still a monarch after the war." Sansa reminded him. "For a little while, before the Seven Kingdoms were abolished and the regions became self ruled." 

"Right." Bran nodded. "I'd forgotten." 

"So who was it?" Rickon asked again, this time sounding annoyed. 

"The Dragon Queen, Rick." Sansa informed him. "Shouldn't you know this by now? Don't you test on it tomorrow?" 

"I know it." he mumbled to himself and Sansa sighed, wiping her hands off on a dishtowel before moving to read over Bran's report. 

It was back to normal here at home. The boys still needed help, the houses duties needed tended, Robb needed help managing the finances and Arya needed help with directions so she could stay on task. It was familiar and soothing, but there was something missing from it all now. 

It'd been two weeks since she arrived back home. Two weeks and she hadn't heard a word out of Sandor. 

Her cellphone rang and Sansa felt her heart give that hopeful little lurch, but when she picked it up it was Robb. 

"Hello." 

"Hey, how's it going with the kids?" 

"Fine." Sansa sighed. "What's up?" 

"You sound off, San." Robb said. "I hate that you're upset." 

"I'm not upset, Robb." Sansa insisted. "I'm just...adjusting." 

Sansa didn't like keeping things from her siblings, so when she'd gotten home, she'd told Robb and Arya everything. After assuring Robb that she didn't need him to go to Kings Landing and bring her back Joffrey's head, they'd both been accepting and supportive. Arya, in her own brash, blunt way. 

"Right." he sighed. "I need a favor." 

"And that is?" 

"After Arya get's home from the gym can you come up to the office? We've got some HR issues that I want your help with." 

"Sure." Sansa agreed. She helped out a lot with the HR at the offices. Like Robb always said, Sansa was far better with people than he was. "I'll call you when I'm headed that way." 

About an hour later, Arya finally got home. She was always in a better mood after being at the gym, but she was nearly beaming when she came in this evening. 

"Robb needs you at the office." she said before she'd even gotten the front door shut. 

"I...know." Sansa said slowly, trying to figure out why Arya was so excited about it. 

"You should get going." Arya jogged around behind Sansa and started pushing her towards the door. "Don't want to keep him waiting." 

"Hang on just a second." Sansa stepped to the side so Arya would stop pushing her. "I don't even have shoes on." 

"Right." Arya nodded, but seemed frustrated. "Hurry up!" 

Sansa shook her head, rounding back into the mud room where her shoes were. After pulling them on, she grabbed her purse and phone and headed back towards the front door where Arya was standing still. She had the front door open and Sansa's keys in her hand. 

"Here you go." she shoved the keys into Sansa's hand. "Go now." 

"What is wrong with you?" Sansa took the keys but stood her ground in the doorway.

"Nothing." Arya frowned. "Robb needs you." 

"I know." Sansa huffed. "Why are you being so pushy about it?" 

"Because I'm going to let Bran and Rickon stay up late so we can play that new video game without you bitching at us about rotting our brains." Arya snarked. "Now, go." she shooed Sansa like some sort of pest and with a roll of her eyes, Sansa left.

The offices were mostly empty at this time of evening, but Jory, the lone security guard, greeted her warmly and sent her on up to Robb's office. Robb was at his desk, his suit jacket gone and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was doing something on the computer and his normally well kept curls were springing about in an unruly manner. Normally he looked so much like the Tully side of the family with his blue eyes and auburn hair, but right now, in the light of the computer and the serious look of concentration, Sansa was reminded so much of their father that it caught her breath and made her throat ache.

"Hey." she greeted and Robb glanced up at her and smiled.

"Sit." he motioned to the chairs in front of his desk and Sansa dropped her purse into one before sitting in the other. Leaning forward, she put her hands on his desk.

"So, what's the HR chaos that you need help with."

"Well." Robb sighed, sitting back in his chair so that it squeaked with the shift. "I need to make some changes."

"In what department." she was already mentally going over the areas that could use some work, that might need layoffs or new hires.

"Security."

"You aren't thinking of letting Jory go, are you?" Sansa asked, horrified at the mere thought.

"Gods, no." Robb chuckled. "Dad's ghost would came back and kick my arse if I did such a thing. No, no layoffs. I was thinking of new hires."

"Okay." Sansa nodded. "That's actually a good idea. Jory's hours are too long anyway. Not to mention we don't have a lot of good, experienced guards. I've always thought we relied to heavily on video security other than actual armed guards."

"Agreed." Robb smiled.

"How many are you thinking of hiring?" she leaned forward and snagged a pen out of a cup and reached for a the pad of paper sitting in front of Robb. "We have only two full time guards. Three rotating guards, but none of them will commit to full time. If we could hire a few more rotating..."

"I want another full time guard." Robb interrupted. "A full guard, too. Armed and trained. Not just these walk about guys with their pepper spray."

"Okay." Sansa nodded, marking out what she'd just written. "So we'll run an add for a fully licensed and trained guard. We should put adds in the local papers, as well as online. There's several sites that I've heard bring in good candidates." 

"Actually," Robb leaned forward and Sansa looked up at him. "I've already got someone in mind. I wanted you to check him out first, though. Make sure you think he's a good fit for us." 

"But.." Sansa shook her head a little. Sansa didn't do hiring. She had never had anything to do with the application process before. "How would I know? If you think he's good for the company, then he's good for the company." 

"This hire is actually going to be a bit more personally involved." he cleared his throat and nodded his head back towards the door. "The decisions on you, sis." 

Still confused, Sansa watched as Robb got to his feet, grabbing his suit jacket as he did so. Sansa glanced back at the door and her stomach did a weird little twist when she saw who was standing there.

-

It hadn't taken Sandor very long after Sansa left to realize he was a fucking idiot. He hadn't done anything to give her hope of a future for them. He hadn't said anything to give her assurance of his feelings for her. 

Damn, but he should have told her he loved her before she left. 

It was too late for that, though. He needed something more than words, more than just a phone call or a text. Sandor had always been a man of action, so that's what he did now. 

It was easy enough to find Stark Corporations number. Getting in touch with Robb Stark himself took a little bit longer. After several days of calling and leaving messages and threats and generally just bugging the hell out of whoever he was talking to, he finally got transferred to the man in charge. After that it was nearly a week of convincing the younger man of his intentions and his seriousness. 

Robb Stark was protective of his sister. And he wasn't a dumb man either. 

After that it was just getting things in order. His resume and licensing papers faxed over. Finding a flight and putting his flat on the market. Two weeks after Sansa had left on that airplane, Sandor found himself on one flying to her home. 

The staging of it all was actually Robb's idea. Sandor was just going to call her, or show up at her house. Apparently Robb had a flair for the theatrics, so they went with his idea. 

Sansa stared at him with wide eyes, her hand flying up to the locket that she was wearing around her neck. Seeing her wearing it made his mouth tick up at the corner. As Robb moved around the desk and came towards the door, Sandor didn't stop looking at Sansa. Robb paused by his side, lifted a hand and squeezed his shoulder. 

"You alright, Sansa?" Robb asked before he left and Sansa finally looked away from him and to her brother. She smiled, her lips trembling a little. 

"Yes." she nodded and Robb gave a sharp nod back, then left the office.

"Robb wants to hire you?" Sansa asked after a beat, her hands coming around to clasp tightly in front of her. 

"Yeah." Sandor nodded. "What would you think about that?" 

Sansa let out a giggle that boarded on a sob before swallowing it down. "That would be lovely. I think..." she sniffed. "I think you could do a lot of good for Stark Corp. And Robb." 

"Sansa." Sandor sighed. He really should have rehearsed what he was going to say. "It's about more than the business and Robb. Surely you know that." 

She blinked rapidly for a moment, then looked out towards the dark windows. "I had hoped..."

"Good." he interrupted. "Because there's some things I should have said to you before you left me at the airport." 

"I didn't leave you." she insisted, eyes snapping back around to him. "I had to come home. Robb needs me. Bran and Rickon need me, Sandor. I couldn't..." her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes shut. Sandor strode forward, his hand coming up to grasp her chin and lift her face to his. 

"I know." he said softly. "I know. I get that, I understood it then. But if you're okay with it, I want to follow you home." 

"You already did." she smiled. 

"I want to stay here. Work for your brother, build up some savings and open a shop one day." he ran his hand up so he was cupping her cheek. "Be with you so I can keep loving you." 

"You mean sex?" she asked with a wide, innocent gaze. Sandor chuckled, bringing his other hand up to hold her face. 

"That, sure." he leaned down to rub his nose against the side of hers. "I love you, Little Bird." he took a shaky breath. "I should have said so before." 

Sansa hiccupped a laugh, her hands coming up to squeeze his wrists tightly. "That's okay. I'd wait for you forever, Sandor." 

"You don't have to." he assured her. "I'm here, and if you'll let me, I'm not going anywhere." 

"That sounds lovely." 

Finished waiting, feeling far more confident in himself and where things stood, Sandor tilted his head so he could kiss her. 

Maybe, just maybe, this was the life he'd been waiting for. It wasn't a happy ending, but it was a damn good beginning. 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short epilogue. I had so much fun writing this. Sorry for the long waits between chapters, but thank you everyone who stuck with me and finished this out.

It was a Friday afternoon, and Sansa was sitting at the kitchen bar, her laptop open, going over some last minute things before having to take her final test on Monday. Things were quiet in the house, both boys were at school, Arya was at the new job she'd gotten working at some smiths shop, so it was just her. As usual, she'd been up before everyone else, getting breakfast made and lunches packed and making sure backpacks were lined up and ready to go. Sandor had to be at work early this morning so he hadn't stayed the night, like he was wont to do most of the time. After dropping the boys off, Sansa had a busy morning of running errands and taking the wheelchair accessible van in for an oil change. Once she was finished with this revision she was going to start prepping things for dinner since Robb and Jeyne were both coming over to eat as well. 

Things never slowed down much. Sansa was fine with that. It was a happy life. 

Her phone sitting on the counter beside her vibrated. Thinking it was Sandor or perhaps Arya, Sansa ignored it for a moment to finish the paragraph she was reading. Before she could there was another text coming in. Sighing, she picked up the phone and then almost promptly dropped it when she saw who it was. 

_Hello gorgeous!_

The first text was accompanied by a selfie of the golden haired young man. His hair was perfectly side swept and there was a cocky half grin on his wormy lips. His second text was just under the photo.

_I've been thinking about you a lot. I miss talking with you. We should reconnect._

Sansa scoffed. The nerve of this boy! Did he really think that after three months she would just be ready to pick right back up with him? When it was never even him to begin with! 

_I'm not sure that's a great idea._

She didn't want to be rude. It was hard for her to be rude, her ingrained sense of kindness always overtaking. But she would not let him think there was a chance at all.

_Well why not? I knew you were a prude bitch, but I didn't think you were a stupid cunt as well._

Sansa gasped. Although Sandor had told her what sort of person Joffrey really was, she had never experienced it first hand. The language and his anger were completely uncalled for. 

_I'm sorry you think that about me. I'm actually in a relationship with someone else._

There. Surely he would leave her alone now. 

_He cant be as rich as me. Or as attractive. You could do so much better, baby._

Sansa wrinkled her nose in disgust. How could he just switch from calling her a bitch and a cunt to calling her baby like it was no big deal? 

_In my opinion he's the sexiest man I've ever seen. Not a conceited, spoiled little boy. He also doesn't lie to me like you have._

She so wanted to tell him who she was with now, but she wasn't sure if Sandor would want her to. He didn't like social media at all, and Sansa was always very careful of what she put out on hers. Their relationship wasn't something she plastered for everyone to see. There were no pictures of the two of them, only her relationship status that declared she was in one. They were just for them and both Sansa and Sandor liked it that way. But, surely to rub it in Joffrey's face that he had inadvertently been the cause of their relationship would be acceptable. 

_You are such a stupid girl._

That was it. Sansa hated being called stupid. Scrolling through her pictures she found the perfect one. It was the first night Sandor had been moved into his apartment. They were laying in bed together, Sansa propped up on some pillows, her hair a little wild. Sandor was laying next to her, his forehead pressed against her jaw and his mouth pressed against her throat. His arm was just visible at the bottom of the picture, wrapped securely just under her breasts. They were both fully dressed, and actually had just dropped down on the bed after unpacking the last box of stuff. But they were so happy, and it was completely evident in the picture just how much they adored each other.

_He doesn't think so._

About five minutes went by when Joffrey didn't say anything, so she sat the phone down with a smug smile and went back to her studying. Half an hour later she was seasoning the chicken and cutting up vegetables before having to leave to pick up the boys from school when the front door opened.  

"Sansa?" Sandor's rough voice called out and Sansa automatically smiled. 

"In here!" she called back and scooped up a handful of carrots to toss in the bowl. She was wrapping it with tinfoil when she felt arms come around her waist. Sandor pressed a kiss to her temple. 

"What're you doing?" he asked, moving his lips down to kiss her jaw. 

"Getting things ready for dinner." 

"Mm." he hummed, his hands skimming around her stomach and taking hold of her hips. Sansa sighed when he squeezed a little, tugging her bottom back into his pelvis. "Smells good." 

She didn't know if he meant the food or her, but she didn't care. Instead, she turned in his arms to properly kiss him. 

"I have something to tell you." she said after a second, pulling back to look at him. 

"What's that, little bird?" his hands ran up the length of her back and Sansa leaned into them. 

"I got a text today." she licked her lips and swallowed. "From Joffrey." 

Sandor went still, the warm heat that was simmering in his eyes dulling into anger. 

"Let me see." he stepped back and tipped his head towards her phone. Sansa picked it up and handed it to him. He scrolled through the messages, his jaw clenching tightly when he ready the nasty names he'd called her. Then a smirk lifted his lips, his one brow raising as his eyes flicked back to her. 

"Sexiest man you know, huh?" 

"It's true." Sansa shrugged. "I hope you aren't mad that I sent the picture. I just couldn't stand him calling me stupid. I wanted to rub it in his face." 

"Not mad at you, girl." he reached out and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her in for a quick kiss. "Joffrey is the bitch and a cunt. Not you." 

"Agreed." she giggled. 

"Here." he sat her phone back on the counter and pulled his own out from his back pocket. "I've got an idea. Come here." 

Sansa let him pull her around in front of him, her back to his chest. One of Sandor's hands rested just below her throat while the other held up the phone to take a picture. He caught her earlobe between his teeth and Sansa's eyes automatically closed, a gasp coming from her mouth as she leaned into him. Sandor snapped the picture. Releasing her, but still standing behind her, Sandor turned the phone around so they could look at the picture. It was...well, it was sort of hot. Sansa looking turned on and Sandor looking all possessive. The hand that had been at her throat was flipping the camera off and Sansa laughed at that. Wrapping both arms around her, Sandor went to his messages and typed in Joffrey's number. Then he added the picture before the text. 

_You're loss, my gain. Fuck you, cunt._

"Sandor." she elbowed him just as he pressed the send button. "Such language." 

"Fuck him." he growled, tossing his phone back to the counter, his arms wrapping tightly around her again.

"Yes." Sansa agreed, leaning back into Sandor, lifting one arm to wrap around his neck while he pressed hot, open mouth kisses to the side of her throat. One of his big hands slid up her waist, cupping her breast while the other went to the snap of her jeans. He'd just worked the first button open when an alarm went off on her phone. 

"Crap." she sighed, sagging into him. Sandor chuckled, but also growled a little when she pulled away from him to shut the alarm off. "I have to go get the boys from school." 

"Take a break, little bird." he stuffed his hands in his pockets, calling even more attention to the bulge of his pants. "I'll go get them." 

"Thank you." she smiled at him and he gave a nod, turning to head out the front door, grabbing the van keys as he passed by. Sansa watched him go, a warm feeling in her belly. Goodness, she loved that man. It probably hadn't been long enough, but she knew she was going to marry him one day and spend the rest of her life with him as her husband. 

She couldn't wait. 

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from The Doors song, People Are Strange. They're my favorite band and that's my favorite song, which I listened to while writing this.


End file.
